


Flame

by internetpistol



Series: Miya Four Vs. The World [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: A Liar's Truth Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Everyone swears a lot, Implied Sexual Content, Komori Motoya The Only Hetero Ever, M/M, Miya Twins Dynamic, Osamu Is Drunk A Lot Sorry About Him, Personal Growth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/internetpistol/pseuds/internetpistol
Summary: In which Miya Osamu and Suna Rintarou are together for ten years and then break up. They are completely fine with it, until they are not fine with it.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou, Suna Rintarou & Komori Motoya, Suna Rintarou & Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: Miya Four Vs. The World [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150154
Comments: 192
Kudos: 893





	Flame

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read A Liar's Truth, go read that first before coming back to this! So many of you asked, so I did it. It's not as long as the monster that is ALT, but it was still a wild ride to write. Also, I just found out that Suna canonically doesn't have a Kansai dialect so I took that into account. Reminder that you guys asked for this... so if you cry, my hands are clean.
> 
> P.S. This starts off immediately after the wedding ceremony in the Miya Twins' parents house!

**_Now_ **

“Ladies, blokes, nonbinary folks, ‘n monsters,” Atsumu announces, one hand holding onto a champagne flute, the other one raising a volleyball, “It’s time for us to toss the bouquet.”

He passes his flute glass to his father before spinning the ball in his hands, “Or in our case… toss the volleyball.”

_“Wooooooh!”_ The small but loud crowd of professional volleyball players and retired high school slash college volleyball players cheer.

Yuu cringes in the crowd, nursing her own glass of champagne. She leans towards Yachi, “Is this all they do?”

Yachi nods solemnly. “Once, I went to Hinata’s apartment while he was in the shower and when he came out, he was on video call with Kageyama and he was... bringing a volleyball with him.”

“... From the shower?”

“Yes.”

_ “Why.” _

“I don’t know.” Yachi whispers, “I don’t want to know.”

“Now!” Atsumu says loudly, trying to speak over all the noise, “The rules are simple. I set the ball to my Omi-Omi, he spikes it, ‘n the one who’s able to receive it, is the next one who’s gettin’ married!”

“If it doesn’t happen, please don’t blame us.” Sakusa says, rolling his wrists to warm up, “We’re not fortune tellers and if your lovelife is doomed, then that’s a you problem.”

“I hope I get it.” Hinata says licking his lips and crouching down, ready to receive it, knowing by heart exactly how Sakusa spikes. “Maybe if I do, Kageyama will finally get the nerve to put a ring on it!”

“Oh, you’re  _ on.”  _ Bokuto laughs, setting his beer bottle to the side. “ _ I’m  _ receiving this spike. It’s a surprise, but I already have the ring ready.” 

“You have the _what_ ready?” Akaashi exclaims from the side.

Bokuto stills. “Aw shit.”

“Here it fuckin’ comes!” Atsumu warns, before tossing the ball to Sakusa. They work together like magic off court and anybody can tell that it’s always heightened when they’re on court, especially as the ball flies directly into his palm. 

Sakusa smirks in satisfaction as he slams it into the crowd.

At that moment, it’s almost like a movie. You know those scenes in some comedy films where everything moves in slow motion while classical music plays in the background as something disastrous happens? Kinda like that scene in The Cat In The Hat where the Cat gets hit in the nuts with a baseball bat and Easy Like Sunday Morning starts playing while they show that visual of him wearing a pink ruffly dress on the swings.

It’s kinda like that. It happens in slow motion as Mozart’s _Eine Kleine Nachtmusik_ plays. 

The ball goes nowhere  _ near _ Hinata or Bokuto but they dive for it anyway. Bokuto knocks into the desserts table, a precious plate of mochi tumbling to the ground, Osamu dives in to salvage it, Hinata runs into Ushijima who is five times his size so he flies back, knocking over Kita who’s somehow already prepared to catch him, and everyone looks on in anticipation as the ball flies directly towards Suna’s face.

The man didn’t even seem to be participating in the whole thing, a champagne flute in one hand and the champagne bottle in the other. It’s almost too late by the time he notices it’s coming for him, but when he does, he drops both items in an instant, champagne spilling all over the freshly trimmed grass, followed by the sound of glass breaking, as he puts his hands together and knocks the ball high up into the air, back towards Atsumu. 

Atsumu catches it easily, pausing, before awkwardly looking up at Suna. “Uh. Nice receive.” 

There is shocked silence for all of three seconds before everyone starts cheering and wolf whistling.

“And to no one’s surprise, it’s the _ other _ Miya twin who’s getting married next. Of fucking course it is.” Hoshiumi crosses his arms in front of his chest, bitterly.

“Dude, you are  _ single.” _ Hirugami points out. “You weren’t going to be the next one to get married anyway.”

“You don’t know that!” He yells in defense.

Ushijima looks genuinely disappointed in himself and Bokuto and Hinata are mourning. Akaashi is in the middle of trying to convince his boyfriend that he doesn’t need a volleyball toss to propose to him, asking him where the  _ fuck _ the ring is, and Kageyama seems to be questioning all his life decisions, wondering whether or not he should propose to Hinata before Hinata proposes to him, and which of those choices would make him the winner. 

“Go go, Rintarou! Push it, push it, Rintarou!”

The crowd is cheering the way they would if it were a real MSBY Black Jackals vs EJP Raijin game. Everyone seems happy, playfully teasing them, nudging Suna in his sides and punching Osamu on the shoulder. 

There are only a select few people who seem uneasy about this whole thing. Atsumu, Sakusa, the Miya twins’ parents, Komori, and the ‘couple’ in question. 

They realize that no one else even knew that the decade-long lovers had been broken up for over a year now.

“Ya didn’t have to receive that, ya know.” Osamu says blankly, staring at the few mochis in his hands that he’d managed to save. “Ya could’ve just moved outta the way.”

Suna’s gaze stays stubbornly fixed on the wet grass below him and the shattered champagne bottle. “It was a reflex.”

“Congratulations, Suna.” Ushijima says politely. “I look forward to you and Osamu-kun’s future ceremony. I hope I get the opportunity to be in charge of the balloons, once again.”

Suna stares down at his feet, the grass below him, the shadows from above him, his ex boyfriend half on the ground clutching desserts in his hands, and he realizes,  _ this is his life.  _

_ These are his choices. _

“Yeah. Sure.”

Maybe if he’d done just a few things different, he wouldn’t be in this crowd right now at all. He looks up at the married couple standing in front of them and wonders, if he’d made just  _ one _ choice different, would he be the one up there now? 

He locks eyes with Osamu.

_ Would they be the ones up there now? _

  
  


**_Then_ **

The more Suna thought about it, the more he realized that love stories were often stressful. He wasn’t exactly close with either of his parents, but he does know that they’d gotten together through cheating and ended because of cheating. It’s a whole clusterfuck of messed up things. He’s not even gonna get into it.

Then there was his grandparents, who he lived with, who’d told him that they got together because they were next-door neighbors. Put that way, it sounded simple, until you added the fact that his grandpa used to date his grandma’s older sister and there was a whole family crisis over it. Suna’s not gonna get into that either.

So at a young age, his impression on love and romance was not the best. Because if love was  _ that  _ messy with straight people, what the hell did that mean for gay people then? They had to deal with all that plus the discrimination? Suna Rintarou decides,  _ hell no.  _ He didn’t want that for himself. 

His grandmother would always tell him that once he goes through puberty, he’ll change his mind. He’ll meet someone and suddenly, all the love songs and romcoms are going to make sense.  _ It’s gonna be like magic, Rintarou,  _ she’d said.  _ You’ll lock eyes and it’ll feel like a new world. _

They’ll lock eyes? Now, why the fuck would they do that? Why would they lock like that? Like, bro, just look away. Close your eyes. 

He will simply pretend not to see it.

But Suna’s actual first love turns out to be non-human. (No, not like that. Don’t even  _ think  _ that. _ )  _

It’s volleyball. His first love is volleyball.

And for a while, he thinks that it’ll probably be his only love. Volleyball made perfect sense to him, because volleyball didn’t have eyes to lock onto. Volleyball wouldn’t cheat on him. Volleyball didn’t date any of his friends or family members in the past. He wouldn’t be discriminated against for loving it. And it works because he doesn’t ever have to try too hard to avoid everyone else’s eyes, when he can only bring himself to keep them on volleyball anyway.

That is, until the  _ Miya Twins _ happen.

“Hey, Samu!” Atsumu says, pointing towards Suna’s direction, wagging his finger, “Ya know him? That’s Suna Rintarou! He was one o’ the best in Aichi in middle school, remember that? That game we watched once? It’s him! Holy shit, I can’t believe we’re gonna be teammates now!”

He is still pointing at him. Suna narrows his eyes.

“That’s rude.” Osamu and Suna say at the same time with similar tired expressions on their faces. 

Suna turns to look at him, the same time that Osamu turns to look at him. They lock eyes.

_ Shit.  _

Suna tries to look away but can’t. 

_ Shit. Is that Can’t Help Falling In Love playing from somewhere in the background or is that just in his head? Where the hell is that coming from? _

“Miya Osamu.” The grey haired twin says, reaching out his hand. “Nice to meet ya.”

“I know. Suna Rintarou.” He answers, shaking it. “But I guess you knew that.”

“And I’m Atsumu!”

“No one asked.” The two say, again, perfectly synchronized.

Atsumu pouts. “ _ Hey.  _ What’s with that?  _ I’m  _ supposed to be the twin here.”

In the weeks and months that follow, Suna learns a handful of things. One, that Atsumu was older by two minutes but Osamu was older by two brain cells. Two, that Atsumu was secretly the softer one and could be reduced to tears by being given a care package when he’s sick while Osamu filmed him and snickered. Three, Osamu has really warm hands even when the air is freezing cold. Four, Miya Osamu somehow fit perfectly into his life as if he’d always belonged there.

And the fifth.

“Sunarin,” Osamu whispers, resting his hand on top of his, leaning closer, the wooden bench beneath them creaking, “I’m gonna kiss ya now, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay.” Suna breathes out, closing his eyes as their lips press together. 

_ Ah. Fireworks. Love songs. Romcoms. He gets it now. _

The kiss keeps going for a long time. They get a little drunk on it, their hair all over the place, lips slightly abused, both of them half hard in their volleyball shorts. They were the only two in the locker room but it’s still a locker room, and they knew they shouldn’t be doing it there. But they couldn’t seem to stop. 

_ Kissing him feels like breathing,  _ Suna thinks.  _ It’s as easy as breathing. _

The only reason they’re able to get themselves to pull away is because Atsumu walks in and interrupts with a dramatic slow clap and a  _ “Niiiiiiiice.”  _ But Suna can’t help but think that if he didn’t, they probably would’ve kissed forever. They probably could’ve kept going for the rest of their goddamn lives.

Five, he learns that he’s had the wrong idea his entire life. Love wasn’t hard at all. It’s like water flowing, the sun shining, the trees growing, the birds chirping, Atsumu being annoying. 

Suna Rintarou learns that to him, loving Miya Osamu is just as certain, as plain and simple, as being alive. 

  
  


**_Now_ **

“Samu,” Atsumu groans exhaustedly, dragging his plastered twin by the arm to his room, “Are ya fuckin’ kiddin’ me? Why d’ya drink so damn much? I can’t stick around ‘n take care of ya, y’know? We got a honeymoon to rush to.” 

“But  _ Tsumu,”  _ Osamu whines like a child and it almost makes Atsumu laugh, because it was completely unlike his brother to sound like that, “D’ya see that? He caught the… the bouq— the ball— the ballquet. Does that mean there’s still hope? That we’re gettin’ married too?”

The  _ ballquet. _ Atsumu would make fun of him if he wasn’t talking about something so fucking miserable.

“Samu, c’mon,” Atsumu says, hoisting his brother up as he starts to sag against him, “Get yer shit together, alright? Ya gotta drink some water ‘n then get some sleep, ‘kay?”

“No. I hate you.” Osamu says, eyes closing, “Yer leavin’ me. Yer  _ leavin’  _ me. Everyone keeps fuckin’  _ leavin’  _ me, Tsumu.  _ Why?” _

“I’m gonna be gone for three measly days for my stupid honeymoon, ya scrub. No one is leavin’ you, ‘specially not me.” Atsumu argues, as he finally reaches the door, sighing in relief. “Now, c’mon.”

As he opens the door and tries to make his way into the bedroom, he nearly knocks into Suna who had been trying to make his way out. He has a jersey in his hands. 

“The fuck are ya doin’ in here?” Atsumu asks, protectively holding a drunk Osamu back from making grabby hands at his ex.

He holds the old jersey up. 

“It’s one of the things I kept forgetting to get back. Aunt Akari said it was in here,” He motions to Osamu with his head, “The hell happened to him?”

“What the fuck d’ya think happened to him?” Atsumu makes a face. “Head outta here before he starts tellin’ ya things he’ll regret tomorrow.”

He’s about to do just that, until Osamu manages to wriggle his way out of Atsumu’s grasp, and stumble right into Suna’s chest.

_ “Nooooooo,  _ ya can’t leave,” He complains, voice muffled in Suna’s tux, “Yer gonna go to a hotel, aren’t ya? ‘Cause ya can’t stay over at our apartment anymore,” Osamu points out, “Can’t ya just spend the night? Ya always used to do that.”

Suna feels something well up in the back of his eyes. God damn it. 

Atsumu starts to panic.  _ “Samu.” _

“S’fine.” Suna says, gathering himself, holding Osamu by the shoulders, lifting him up, “I can handle him.”

_ This is certainly not fine and he certainly cannot handle him. _

“It’s not you I’m fuckin’ worried about.” Atsumu says, reaching for his brother, “Ya idiot,  _ hey, _ c’mon, get off him.”

“No.”

“Samu, fer the love of God, I gotta go, stop bein’ difficult!” He scolds, trying to pull him by the back of his blazer, “Get off him before ya do somethin’ stupid!”

“Then just  _ go!”  _ Osamu argues, clinging onto Suna, “Don’t keep yer stupid bendy wristed husband waiting! Go on yer stupid honeymoon and leave yer stupid twin to rot! I don’t give a shit!”

Suna winces, reflexively securing his hold around Osamu, rubbing his back. He looks at Atsumu who looked like he was punched in the face, “Hey, you know how he is when he gets sad drunk. Don’t let it ruin today.”

Osamu keeps drunkenly repeating his name into his ear.  _ Rin, Sunarin, Rintarou, just stay the night.  _ Suna was hanging on by a fucking thread. 

Atsumu seems to have a debate in his mind, looking back and forth between his brother and the door. He sighs exasperatedly, looking at Suna, examining him, searching for something in his eyes. 

After some hesitation, he seems to come to a decision.

“I trust you.” are the words he settles with.

It’s only three words but Suna can hear the hundreds of other things that those words entail.

The first time Atsumu had told him that, it was probably over ten years ago now. Right when he and Osamu had just started dating. Back then, it sounded hopeful and genuinely trusting. But now, it sounded more like a threat. 

It didn’t sound like  _ I trust you.  _ It sounded like  _ don’t make me regret it. _

Suna nods.

“Atsumu! We’ve gotta go!” They hear Sakusa yell from downstairs and that serves as Atsumu’s cue to leave. 

He gives Suna one last lingering look. “Y’know, right?”

_ Hurt him and I’ll hurt you.  _

“Yeah,” Suna says because he does, “I know.”

Atsumu reaches out a hand to ruffle his twin’s hair, leaning down to press a quick kiss to the top of his head. “M’sorry. I have to go. I’ll see ya, ‘kay? Don’t ya dare blame me for whatever fuckin’ mess ya get yerself into.”

Osamu groans, eyes closed, his cheek pressed against Suna’s shoulder. 

He stands there, carrying more than half of Osamu’s weight as Atsumu runs down the stairs, calling after his husband. 

He looks down at the drunken mess in his arms. 

_ “Riiiiin.” _

“Samu,” He sighs fondly, gently dragging the boy to his bed, “Let’s get you some water.”

The second he sits him down on the edge and lets go of him, Osamu clings onto his clothes. “No.”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“No.” Osamu repeats, clinging tighter, “I won’t drink it. Not until ya say you’ll stay the night.”

Suna bites the inside of his mouth until he tastes blood, willing himself not to look at the boy because he knows that if he does, he’ll crack. 

They’ll lock eyes, like always. And he won’t be able to look away, like always. 

“You know I can’t do that.” He says, desperately clinging onto his common sense. “You know we can’t do that.”

“Why the fuck not?” Osamu dares to ask, “How many times have we slept together, huh? Why can’t we do it?”

“Because we’re  _ not together anymore,  _ Osamu.” Suna says, voice hard. “And you’d remember that if you’d stop being so fuckin’ difficult and let me get you some water.”

“Fuck you.” Osamu slurs, attempting to drag Suna into bed with him, “I never fuckin’ forgot. I try to but I can’t, don’t ya get that? Fuck you.  _ Fuck you.” _

“Okay. Alright. I know.” Suna appeases, trying to get a hold of Osamu’s wrists to stop him from squirming. “Samu. You need to come to your senses now.”

He suddenly stops all movement, but Suna’s button-up shirt remains scrunched up in Osamu’s grip. It’s quiet.

Finally, Osamu looks up at him, eyes barely focused but moist with unshed tears. 

“Why won’t ya get back together with me?” He croaks, one hand letting go of Suna only to hit him in the stomach weakly. “Huh? I kept askin’ ya. Weeks after the stupid breakup.” Another punch. “Months after the stupid breakup.” Another. “I kept askin’ and ya wouldn’t. Like ya were happier without me. Like ya really were better off without me.”

Suna feels a few tears roll down his cheeks but he steels himself, holding onto Osamu’s wrist in an attempt to calm him down. 

“Samu,” He says and it sounds like a plea because it is, “Stop it.”

_ “Ten years, _ Rin.” Osamu continues, voice turning high and desperate, cracking all over the place, as he finally starts crying, trying to pull his arm out of Suna’s grip, “We gave each other ten fuckin’  _ years.” _

_ “Osamu.” _

“Fuck you. Why don’t ya wanna be with me anymore? Why won’t ya try again?” Osamu bites through his tears, “Ten goddamn years, Rin. Are ya tellin’ me that not even a small part of you stayed in love with me?” 

Jesus Christ.

“That’s  _ not _ it.” is all he manages to say.

“Then  _ why?”  _

Suna feels all the strength leave his body. He doesn’t have the will to fight. It makes him kind of angry that the whole reason they broke up was so they could stop fucking fighting all the time, but even now, over a year after their break up, here they were again. 

Here they were, still. Like clockwork. 

He sighs shakily, slowly sinking to the ground, resting his forehead against Osamu’s knees. A few seconds pass, before he feels familiar fingers start running through his hair gently. It feels like he’d never stopped doing it.

“Even if we try to make it work again this time,” Suna starts, “How is it gonna be any different from the last time we tried... and all the other times before?”

The hand in his hair pauses, simply resting on top of his head. He waits, keeping his head down, until he hears Osamu let out a tired chuckle.

“This is seriously messed up, Rin. We used to be happy as hell, remember that?” He sniffs, “We were real fuckin’ happy once.”

  
  


**_Then_ **

Ever since the kiss, Osamu had been acting  _ weird.  _ It’s not that he’s completely avoiding him, because he couldn’t do that even if he wanted to. They’re teammates and their houses are in the same direction. They walk home together everyday and everything. But he doesn’t bring up the kiss, he dodges the topic every time Suna tries to bring it up, and he  _ refuses  _ to even have a conversation with him without Atsumu there. 

Weird as hell.

And Suna’s a little fucking upset about it because he’s acting like they didn’t have a conversation after that whole thing. They fucking  _ did.  _ They’d said it was a first for them both. They’d said they were a little freaked out. They’d said neither of them were sure what that kiss meant for them now. But they’d also both said that they wouldn’t be weird about it, they’d take the time to think about it, they’d stay friends no matter what happened, and that they both liked it enough to want to do it again. 

“Atsumu. You know something, don’t you?” Suna asks, squinting at the twin while Osamu’s off getting them drinks from the vending machine. “Tell me.”

Atsumu wags a finger at him mockingly, shaking his head. “A twin never breaks a twinky promise. It’s of a higher rank than the regular pinky promise.”

“Suck my dick.”

“Only if ya ask nicely.” Atsumu winks.

Osamu interrupts by slamming down three soda cans on the floor with a smile that looked anything but kind.  _ “What _ was that?”

The two innocently look away. 

It’s a week after that that Suna finally cracks. The three of them are walking home from school as the sun is starting to set, and it’s after another day of him listening to the twins argue and talk as if he were invisible, that he decides to put his foot down.

“Hey, Osamu,” He starts, trying to sound as casual as possible, “About that kiss two weeks ago…”

He stills at the side of the road. Suna stops just slightly behind him.

“You’ve been avoiding it for weeks now.” Suna continues, hoping he doesn’t sound like he’s anticipating his own heartbreak, “So, if you’re gonna reject me just say it, alright? You don’t need to drag it out for my sake.”

Osamu seems to hesitate for a moment, before taking a deep breath, nodding his head without looking at him. “Yer right. I shouldn’t.”

There’s a long pause before he continues.

“We said we wouldn’t be awkward no matter what, right? That we’d still be friends?” He clarifies, “These past few weeks I’ve been thinkin’ a lot and I’ve come to the conclusion that… I don’t wanna jus’ casually make out with ya like that.”

Suna clenches his fists. “Mmm.”

“So,” Osamu says, finally turning around to face him, with a small smile on his face, “Will ya be my boyfriend, Rin?”

Suna sighs, nodding his head. “It’s fine, I get it—”

The words sink in. “Wait,  _ what?” _

“I said,” Osamu continues, looking slightly entertained, “I didn’t wanna jus’ keep bein’ casual with ya. I want the whole package, y’know? So, I’m askin’ ya. Will ya be my boyfriend?”

“You…” Suna stutters, blinking rapidly. All he feels is confusion for a few seconds until it’s replaced with rage, “Wait a fuckin’ minute. Have you been planning to do this all this time? Were you just messing around with me?”

“No!” Osamu defends, “I really was scared to ask you at first! But then the past few days, I noticed ya were bein’ really cute ‘n clingy about it, so I guess towards the end, a  _ little _ bit—”

Suna shrugs his bag off his shoulders and starts beating him with it. “You! Fucking! Asshole!”

“Ow, Rin, stop it! Wait—” Osamu begs, shielding himself with his arms, “Wait, god damn it, ya haven’t even answered me yet! Will ya or will ya not!”

“Obviously I will!” Suna yells with one last hit. “You fucking bastard!”

Osamu manages to get a hold of both his wrists, smiling the brightest Suna’s ever seen him smile, before wrapping his arms around him and leaning in for a kiss. 

“Stupid.” Suna grumbles.

Osamu kisses him again.

“Idiot.” Suna adds.

It earns him another kiss.

“Boyfriend.” Osamu grins.

Suna sighs exasperatedly, but with the fondest expression the world had ever seen. “I  _ guess.” _

They’re interrupted by a phone to their faces and Atsumu’s hand motioning to them going, “Ma’am, this is a Mcdonalds Drive Thru.”

Suna yanks Osamu by his shirt collar, pulling him into a long, proper kiss, raising one hand to flip off the camera. The video ends with Atsumu throwing his sweaty socks at them, Suna screaming bloody murder, and Osamu saying something that sounded like  _ ‘tyrannical pig’  _ before lunging for his brother.

Atsumu wipes the blood off his nose as he adds it to his Instagram story with the caption,  _ ‘When you pick the wrong twin<3” _

__

“Hey, I didn’t know ya lived with yer grandparents.” Osamu says, shifting in his bus seat to turn his entire body towards Suna, “Ya never told me that. Yer parents stayed in Aichi?”

Suna hums. “My ‘rents got divorced around the same time that Inarizaki scouted me. It was a damn ugly split. They fuckin’ near  _ tossed  _ me to my grandparents before pissing off to their other lovers. They barely even talk to me now.”

It’s quiet for a little after he says that, nothing but the sound of the rest of their teammates snoring or quietly conversing, as their bus makes its way back to their school after a long day of practice matches. 

“Shit, Rin.” Osamu says, resting his hand on his knee. “M’sorry. That’s fucked up.”

Suna shakes his head. “Nah, s’not that bad. I’ve always been close with my grandparents, so moving here and living with them feels  _ way  _ better than back when I lived with my parents.”

“Still.” Osamu says, squeezing his thigh before pulling away. “Ya didn’t deserve that.”

Suna smiles gently at him, showing his appreciation. 

“Well,” He exhales loudly, “Now that  _ that’s _ outta the way, you know we don’t have to worry about having to come out to my parents. But we  _ do _ have to tell my grandparents.”

Osamu blinks. “Oh. Ya mean I’m comin’ with ya?”

Suna narrows his eyes at him. “Are you telling me you’re gonna make me do it by myself? What kinda shitty boyfriend are you?”

Osamu tilts his head, examining his boyfriend’s face. “Are ya scared?”

He purses his lips. 

“A little,” He says honestly, because he knows better than to hide anything from Osamu, “I love ‘em, though. And I know they wouldn’t kick me out for it, I mean  _ christ,  _ how shitty do you have to be to throw out the kid who was already thrown out before?”

Osamu winces.

“But we’ve never talked about it before so,” Suna shrugs, “I dunno how they’re gonna take it, that’s all. I just don’t wanna disappoint them and shit when they’ve done so much for me.”

Suna feels a hand slowly makes its way into his, interlacing their fingers together. He looks up and is met with a familiar gaze, one that he’s learned to associate with safety. “It’ll be fine. I’ll be right there with ya.”

Suna can tell he means it. And he believes him. “I know.”

It happens only a couple months later. One afternoon, as Suna and the twins walk their familiar route home. At the intersection where they usually part, Suna yanks on the back of Osamu’s jacket with a simple,  _ ‘Hey. Have dinner with me and my grandparents.’  _

Osamu blinks and with a single look shared between them, he knew it was The Day.

“Hey, am  _ I  _ not invited to this dinner?” Atsumu demands, as if offended, looking up from his phone.

“Shut up, Atsumu, it’s my Coming Out dinner.” Suna retorts.

“Aw shit,” He says, eyes widening as he excitedly slaps his twin on the arm, “Hey, Samu, wouldn’t it be funny if we pulled that shit we did with my ex boyfriend?”

Osamu snorts. “That’d only work if we still had the same hair.”

“Damn it.”

Suna raises his eyebrows. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“When Tsumu’s first boyfriend introduced him to his neighborhood friends, we wore the exact same thing ‘n I followed him around like a ghost the entire time. They both pretended they couldn’t see me ‘n all the kids freaked the  _ fuck _ out. It was one of the better days of my life.”

“You’re terrible fuckin’ people.” Suna deadpans. “I can’t come out as gay and introduce them to my boyfriend and his ghost twin. It’ll kill them. My grandma has high blood pressure.”

“Do you think she’ll be more scared of the gayness or the undead?”

Suna seems to genuinely think about it for a second before realizing what he’s doing. 

“Fuck the both of you. Your stupidity is rubbing off on me. Samu, let’s go.”

_ Tell me everything,  _ Atsumu mouths to him as he’s being dragged away.

_ Pray for my soul,  _ Osamu mouths back.

Three hours later, Osamu realizes that he’d been mentally preparing for absolutely nothing. He gets there, Suna’s grandparents greet him casually, saying that their grandson didn’t bring people home very often, so Osamu coughs out a  _ ‘loser’,  _ Suna pinches him, and his grandfather nods solemnly saying, ‘Yeah… he kind of is.’

He loves them already.

Osamu helps them cook, helps them set the table, and then he spends the entire dinner listening to them tell him embarrassing stories about his boyfriend. 

“Rintarou used to  _ love  _ The Spice Girls.” His grandmother says, chuckling. “Memorized all their songs ‘n music videos ‘n everythin’.”

Osamu wonders to himself if coming out was still necessary at this point.

“Rintarou,” His grandfather says, motioning to Osamu with his spoon, “This is a good kid. I like ‘im.” 

Suna licks his lips, fixing his gaze on his empty plate.

“That’s good.” He pauses, closing his eyes, and taking a deep breath. “‘Cause he’s my boyfriend.”

Osamu chokes on a piece of chicken and he hears cutlery clatter onto the table, and he was just as taken aback at the suddenness of the announcement as his grandparents probably were.

He’s half tempted to close his eyes as some pathetic attempt to avoid seeing the outcome. But instead, he keeps his eyes on Suna and watches in awe as he gathers the courage to look his family in the eye bravely and ask, “Is that okay?”

The silence is long and tense. It feels like an entire lifetime before he hears someone let out a shaky sigh.

“We didn’t grow up knowin’ or understandin’ much about people like you two,” Suna’s grandmother says and Osamu notices that her tone is gentle, “But if all of ‘em are like you… I don’t see why we should have a problem with it.”

When Osamu finds the courage to look at them, they’re smiling. That night marks the first time he’d ever seen Suna tear up.

He sniffs and continues eating. “Thanks.”

Osamu squeezes Suna’s hand under the table and he squeezes back.

When his grandfather continues their conversation like nothing had happened, Osamu can tell that they were already accepted long before anything had even been said.

At the end of the night, when Suna walks him to their front door, he leaves Osamu with a chaste kiss and a, “Thanks… for doing this for me.”

Osamu smiles crookedly. “Told ya it’d be fine.”

“Whatever,” Suna scoffs good naturedly. “— but I guess... everything that seems hard  _ does _ feel just a little easier if it’s with you.”

Osamu realizes he really is in love, at that moment. He doesn’t say it yet, though. “G’night, Rin.”

Suna leans forward to kiss him one last time. “See ya tomorrow, Samu.” 

  
  


**_Now_ **

“So?” Komori presses, “What the hell did you do? Did you actually spend the night with him?”

“No, the  _ fuck, _ Komori,” Suna grouses, “What kinda person do you think I am? He passed out from all the drinks and crying. I just got him out of his blazer and shoes and left a glass of water and painkillers on his bedside table.”

“No note?” Komori raises his eyebrows.

“What the fuck was I supposed to say to him?” Suna grumbles. “What is there to say that won’t make things worse than they already are?”

Komori sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. “This is a mess. And here I was, thinking I’d finally find peace after Atsumu and Sakusa got married. You two were doing alright dealing with the breakup the past year. What the hell happened?”

Suna knows what the hell happened. Atsumu got married, that’s what. They’d had to see more of each other as the best man and one of the groomsmen, that’s what. They’d never  _ really  _ been alright dealing with the breakup, they were just exceptionally skilled at acting like they were, that’s fucking what. 

“Long story.” Suna groans, rubbing his face tiredly. “Long fucking story.”

Komori thinks something over a little bit before fishing his phone out of his pocket. “Hey. You and Sakusa close?”

Suna looks at him from between his fingers. “We aren’t strangers but we aren’t exactly the best of friends either. Why?”

“Well, start changing that.” Komori says, fingers tapping his screen rapidly, “Because the last time I saw someone in this much of a mess, it was him and he’s married now so he can probably help you. They’re back from their honeymoon by now and have a few more days free so he won’t be that busy.”

“Sakusa Kiyoomi? Help me?” Suna repeats, incredulously.

“Is your apartment sanitized?”

“... I guess?”

“You can’t  _ guess.”  _ Komori says, setting his phone down. “Just bring a nice bottle of wine and head to their apartment. He’ll help you.”

“I can’t leave my dumb cat alone, though. She’s been getting fussy these days whenever I’m gone for longer than usual.”

Komori gasps dramatically and reaches for his phone again.

Just thirty seconds later, Suna’s phone pings with a new message.

**Sakusa Kiyoomi**

**sent 3:46 pm**

Miya Twin problem?

**Suna Rintarou**

**sent 3:47 pm**

yeah

  
  


**Suna Rintarou**

**sent 3:49 pm**

will you be more comfortable at your place? Is Atsumu there?

**Sakusa Kiyoomi**

**sent 3:51 pm**

I hear the cat is with you.

**Suna Rintarou**

**sent 3:52 pm**

yeah. Flame is with me

**Sakusa Kiyoomi**

**sent 3:54 pm**

Atsumu’s helping Kageyama ring shop. I’ll provide the wine. Just bring the cat.

  
  


Suna stares at his reply for an entire minute and then thirty more seconds for good measure, before wordlessly showing Komori the screen. 

The man simply hums and closes his eyes, nodding seriously. “He likes cats.”

__

“Uh. Sakusa?” 

Suna had been told that if he came here, he’d get advice on how to deal with a year old breakup from a ten year long relationship. Suna had been told that if he came here, he’d get some sort of solution. But it’s been twenty minutes since he’d arrived and he’s already halfway through his first glass of wine because Sakusa was…

The man gasps quietly. “Look,” He says, one hand whipping out his phone to take a video and the other continuing to scratch the orange tabby, “She’s showing me her  _ belly.” _

Suna blinks. He never really saw it before, but he guesses Sakusa Kiyoomi was a  _ little  _ cute. He’ll give Atsumu some credit. 

“She’s friendly, for the most part.” Suna informs, scooting just a little closer so he can scratch the top of Flame’s head. “It’s kinda impressive that she’s showing you her belly, though.”

“Cats like me.” Sakusa brags in a way that makes it sounds like it’s his biggest achievement in life, which is funny ‘cause he’s won the Olympics, “Stray cats talk to me a lot. I think they really believe I can understand them.”

Suna bites back a laugh, before lifting Flame up and setting her down properly on top of Sakusa’s lap. She closes her eyes and purrs, snuggling into the man’s shirt. Sakusa’s eyes damn near  _ sparkle. _

“So, did I come here just so you could pet my cat or are we going to talk about my problems?”

Now that Flame was settled on Sakusa and didn’t look like she was planning on moving anytime soon, he seems satisfied enough to start the conversation. “Atsumu told me something happened after the wedding. Did anything happen while Osamu was drunk?”

Suna shakes his head. “Just a lot of him swearing at me and asking why I wouldn’t get back together with him.”

“Ah,” Sakusa nods, gaze still focused on Flame, “The usual drunk ex boyfriend spiel.”

Suna chuckles weakly. “How much do you actually know? About Samu and I?”

“Not much,” He shrugs, “But enough, I guess. Been together nearly ten years, everyone’s perfect picture of a stable, long-term relationship, then broke up last year ‘cause things weren’t working out but stayed on good terms, somehow.”

Suna smiles but it’s sad. “That was always so weird to me.”

Sakusa raises his eyebrows, finally raising his head. “What is?”

“That we were always everyone’s example of a perfect, stable, long-term relationship.” He says, biting his bottom lip. “Do you know how many times we almost broke up over the years? I’m pretty sure I lost count, but it was… a lot of fuckin’ times.”

Sakusa blinks, running his hand down the cat’s back. “I don’t think even Atsumu knew that.”

Suna shakes his head. “Atsumu tells Samu  _ everything, _ but Samu always hides the bad shit from him. I never understood why. He’s...” 

He sighs, scratching the back of his head, frustratedly. “He’s hard to understand, sometimes.”

“You’ve been together ten years and you’re telling me you find it hard to understand him?” Sakusa asks, curiously but without any ill intent.

“Well, it wasn’t always like this.” Suna retorts, feeling the need to defend himself. “When we first started dating, it was the easiest thing in the world to understand him. And he understood me too. Back then, I don’t think we ever even had to  _ try, _ you know? Loving him felt like… like muscle memory or something. Like something I couldn’t help, but didn’t ever have to think twice about.”

Sakusa just listens, sipping his wine quietly.

“I mean, we were schoolmates and teammates and walked the same way home every damn day.” Suna smiles softly at the memory, “Everything from who we were to where we were… it made it all so easy. It felt so stupidly  _ natural  _ to love him and have him next to me all the time, that I couldn’t imagine it being anyway else. So, when we graduated and he quit volleyball and I went on to go pro… you get it, right?”

Sakusa purses his lips. “Yeah.”

“It’s been hard since then. And I know that sounds fucked up ‘cause that means it was hard for majority of our fucking relationship... but it was.” Suna says, and the words sound heavy on his tongue, like it’s the first time he’s actually ever admitted it out loud to someone, “I loved him so much… I  _ still  _ do, but ever since then, it’s been hard. Not all the time, not every minute of every day, but it sure was a lot. And not just for me. I’m sure it was hard for him too.”

He looks down at his hands. “If anything, I’m pretty damn sure it was even harder for him.” 

Sakusa is quiet for a little while, tapping his fingers against his wine glass, as if mulling it over, before he turns and asks, “Why  _ exactly  _ did you break up?”

It’s a simple question. To anyone who’d gone through a breakup before, that’s the top question you get asked right next to  _ ‘Are you okay?’.  _ It should be easy to answer. They cheated on me, I cheated on them, we fell out of love, there’s too much on our plates, we have different priorities, all that good shit. But funnily enough, as simple as the question is, it’s always so fucking hard to answer. Because a lot of the time, breakups aren’t as simple as having just one reason for it. 

A lot of the time, breakups happen because of a bunch of small things that gradually grow into bigger things over time.

Too many missed dinners, forgotten plates in the sink when it was your turn to do them, laundry you didn’t wash, forgetting to say good morning or good night, being home too late when you were supposed to be early,  _ ‘Sorry, I know I said a break was coming up, but Coach is training us too hard _ .’ 

A hundred small things and just as many fights, day after day, year after year, that in the end, simply turn into four words. 

_ It just stopped working. _

“Have you ever loved someone so much, for  _ so long, _ but somehow… still felt like maybe you weren’t ever good for each other?” He asks.

Sakusa hits him with the most deadpan expression he’d ever seen, voice dripping with sarcasm as he says one word. “No.”

Suna almost laughs. 

“Right,” He nods, “I don’t know. I guess it’s just that everything used to be so easy and then suddenly... nothing was.”

Sakusa takes another sip of wine, scratching Flame’s chin. They sit in companionable silence for a little bit, before he says, “Well, if you’re only with someone because it feels easy, then it’s bound to go up in flames eventually. It sounds cliche but no relationship is always easy, right? That applies even with family and friendships.”

Sakusa turns to look at him, “I’m not saying that relationships should feel like a chore. They shouldn’t. But… you can’t stay in a relationship just because it feels  _ easy. _ What the hell are you gonna do when it gets hard then?”

At that, Suna leans back against the couch. In hindsight, he already knew all that. And he could put up a good argument that it being easy was  _ never  _ the only reason he stayed with Osamu. Why the hell would he have stayed for so long then, when it was so hard? But he goes over Sakusa’s words over and over and thinks back to something Osamu had told him, sometime around three years ago. 

It was a bad fight. Not their worst, but one of. And he realizes he doesn’t even remember what they were fighting about. He only remembers Osamu’s face and the sound of his voice, angry beyond fucking belief but still desperately pleading for something. 

“You know, now that you say that,” Suna chuckles bitterly, “I think Samu might have told me something like that before.”

  
  


**_Then_ **

You know how you get this really distinct feeling in your gut before something really bad happens? It’s hard to describe. It’s like, you don’t exactly know that something bad is about to happen but there’s a voice in your head telling you that there’s something off. You blame the weather at first. Or on the vending machine being out of your favorite snack or the coffee machine not working.

That’s how Suna Rintarou knew, before he’d even entered his shared apartment with his boyfriend for the first time in months, that hell was about to break loose. 

He knew even before his brain had registered that he was two hours late to dinner.

Osamu had never minded before that he was always late. Back then, he actually found it kind of funny. Endearing even, at times. Especially when Suna would arrive looking like a panicked mess. But as the years passed, everything that Osamu used to like about him became inconveniences. The fact that he was always late, the dumb way he cooked his eggs, the way he’d sometimes fog up the mirror and leave cute notes. (Apparently, he didn’t have the time to keep wiping the mirror in the mornings.)

Then again, Suna kind of understood. Because he felt the same. He used to think Osamu was the cutest fucking thing in the world whenever he got clingy. Now, all it made him feel was suffocated.

“Yer really makin’ a habit outta tellin’ me one thing ‘n then doin’ another.” Osamu says, lazily turning his head to look at him from his position on the couch. “Ya pissin’ me off on purpose now?”

Suna closes the door behind him, gently. He sighs, already tired. 

“I just wanted to get a little more training time in before the break. Are we really doing this right now? Already? I just got here. It’s the first time I’m here in months and you’re gonna pick a fight before I even put down my shit?”

An orange ball of fluff meows loudly, rushing out of the room, rubbing her head against Suna’s legs. 

“Our damn cat misses me more than you do.” He points out, crouching down, scratching behind her ears. “Hey, Flame. You dumb cat. Missed you.”

“Well, our damn cat doesn’t have a schedule.” Osamu retorts, standing up. “And our damn cat isn’t yer boyfriend.” 

“Might as fucking well be.” Suna grumbles, “She kisses me more than you do these days, at least.”

_ “Rin.”  _ Osamu’s voice crumbles and hardens at the same time. “Fer fuck’s sake, can’t ya just say yer sorry?”

Suna sighs heavily, pushing himself up from the floor, and he decides he’d rather they don’t go to sleep tonight angry at each other. They’d done that enough.

“Okay, fine. I’m  _ sorry,  _ okay?” He says, flailing his arms a little, “I’m sorry. I lost track of time, I didn’t mean to be late to dinner. I’m sorry. Let’s eat, alright? Please?” 

He tries to charm Osamu with his puppy eyes, slowly making his way towards him, dropping his bag in the process. He wraps his arms around the man’s waist, pressing their foreheads together.  _ “Okay?” _

Osamu seems to hold his breath for a few seconds, before relenting, releasing a shaky exhale. “Food’s in the fridge. We can jus’ heat it up.”

Suna smiles softly, leaning forward to finally press a kiss against his lips. “Hey. I’m home.”

Osamu raises an arm to rest his hand on the back of Suna’s neck. He caresses his skin with his thumb. “Welcome home.”

Later, sitting at the table, as Suna eats spoonful after spoonful of Osamu’s curry, he notices that the man’s plate remains untouched. He pauses, lowering his spoon. “Samu?”

“Hm?” Osamu hums, seemingly blinking himself out of his train of thought. 

“You aren’t eating.” Suna says, motioning to his plate. 

“Ah…” Osamu says blankly, “Yeah. I’m not really that hungry, s’fine.”

_ Not hungry?  _ Suna thinks.  _ Well, that’s a fucking new one. _

He puts his spoon down. “Are you still mad at me?”

He shakes his head. 

“No,” He says and it sounds like he means it, “M’just… I’m just tired as hell, s’all.”

Suna doesn’t want to ask, isn’t sure if he actually wants to hear the answer, but he does anyway. “Of me or in general?”

To Osamu’s credit, he seems to at least try and make it sound less scary before he goes ahead and asks, “Hey, Rin… Don’t ya think we need to talk about us?”

He didn’t exactly answer his question, but it was an answer in and of itself. Suna feels his heart drop to his feet. “What?”

“I’m not…” Osamu tries to start, running a hand through his unkempt hair and it’s the first time Suna notices the dark bags under his eyes, “I’m just sayin’ that we’ve been fightin’ more than we ever do anythin’ else these days. I’ve just been havin’ a rough time here without ya, y’know? And I know I’ve been takin’ it out on ya and I shouldn’t, but it’s like… I dunno what else to do. Yer barely around, hell, we barely even talk on Facetime anymore. I dunno if I can keep goin’ like this.”

Suna feels his mouth dry up and his limbs turn stiff. He opens his mouth but for a second, nothing comes up. Just a weak, almost soundless croak. What ends up coming out eventually is a pathetic excuse, a desperate attempt to delay whatever he thought was about to happen. 

“It’s not like I  _ like  _ that we’ve been losing time together, Samu. I miss you every damn day. It’s why I look forward to seeing you every time we can, but these days, you’re pissed at me before I even get here.”

“Can you fuckin’  _ blame  _ me, though?” Osamu argues, “Rin, we barely have actual conversations because all you fuckin’ talk about is volleyball. I hear enough o’ that shit from Atsumu and it’s all I hear from you too.”

“You’re pissed ‘cause I keep talking about volleyball? We’ve always talked about volleyball! You love volleyball!” Suna says, his voice raising slightly against his will, “Isn’t that what we’ve always done? Since fucking high school?”

“But we’re not in  _ high school  _ anymore. Yeah, I fuckin’ love volleyball and so do you but—” He throws his hands in the air, “It’s not my  _ life _ anymore, Rin. I’m glad yer happy and  _ christ,  _ I’m proud of ya. So fuckin’ proud, ya wouldn’t even believe it. But I quit, remember? I’m tryin’ to build my own life, my own career, and ya don’t even know jackshit about it, do ya? Do you even  _ care?” _

Suna nearly gapes at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement. “Of course, I fucking care! Are you fucking kidding me? I  _ do _ try to ask, damn it, but hell, I don’t know shit about food or restaurants or business terminology and even when I  _ try  _ to ask you, you barely tell me anything. Do you even realize you do that? You don’t even wanna fucking talk to me about it!”

Osamu starts to open his mouth, but Suna raises a hand.

“Don’t even try to tell me that’s not true.” He pushes, “I know you. And I know you’re having a hard time with the restaurant right now but I can’t do  _ shit _ if you don’t talk to me.” 

“Talk when? Talk  _ how?” _ Osamu scoffs, “Yer always too damn busy enjoyin’ bein’ some fuckin’ sports celebrity heartthrob to even think about yer boyfriend these days.” 

That makes Suna lean back. He looks at the man in front of him and barely even recognizes him. Not when he talks like that. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you right now? Do you  _ want  _ me to be struggling with my career for you to feel better about yours?”

Osamu had hurt him. That’s the only reason he’d said those words. But Suna regrets them the second they leave his mouth.

They seem to strike a particularly delicate nerve in Osamu, too. He harshly pushes his chair back and it makes a loud noise, making Flame run under the couch. 

_ “Fuck  _ you.”

He starts taking big, angry steps towards their bedroom and Suna wants to fucking cry. 

“Shit, Samu, wait—“ He says, forgetting the curry and rushing after his boyfriend.

“No,  _ fuck  _ you, Rin.” Osamu bites out, “I’m tired. I’m fuckin’  _ tired,  _ ya hear me? I’m tired of feelin’ like this, I’m tired of feelin’ like I’m only a second thought to you, I’m tired of feelin’ like some… some fuckin’ stupid army wife. I’m tired of you never havin’ enough time. I’m tired of feelin’ less like a boyfriend and more like someone you just fuck on vacation! I’m tired, okay? I’m tired! I’m fuckin’ sick of this!” 

Every word feels like a knife to his chest. It’s blow after blow after blow. And Suna keeps trying to think back to when he started doing things wrong, what he could’ve done to prevent this, whether he should’ve been asking his Coach to give him more leaves or something so he could salvage his relationship, whether this was his fault or if Osamu was just being unreasonable right now. 

He feels like maybe if this were years ago, he’d know what to do and what to say. But these days, he’s starting to realize that the Osamu he knew back then wasn’t the Osamu he knew anymore. He thinks maybe Osamu’s struggling with the fact that he wasn’t the Suna Rintarou he used to be anymore, either. 

He wonders, the way he’s kept wondering these days, what the hell he was supposed to do when all he ever seemed to be doing anymore was make the person he loved most, miserable. 

He looks down at his feet. “Should we just stop then?”

The silence is long and agonizing. 

What breaks it is the sound of the couch as Osamu sinks into it, burying his face in his hands. “Are you fuckin’ _serious_ right now?”

Suna fights the urge to stomp his feet and sighs frustratedly instead. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”

“I want you to  _ fight  _ for this!” He yells and Suna realizes that he’s crying and that it’s the first time he’s actually ever seen Osamu cry because of him. “I’m tellin’ ya that I’m havin’ a hard time, that I’ve been miserable without ya, that I need ya around more, and you’re tellin’ me that we should  _ break up?”  _

Osamu stands up, faces Suna properly, and then pushes him by the chest. 

“Yer an asshole.” He pushes him again, and Suna stumbles backwards, “Yer a fuckin’ asshole.” Another push. “Coward. Fuckin’...  _ coward.”  _ A weak punch to the chest. “Ya can’t just leave me when I get difficult. Ya can’t just give up when I tell ya I’m tired. Yer supposed to tell me we can work on it. Yer supposed to tell me not to go. Yer supposed to tell me I’m bein’ stupid ‘n remind me that ya love me.” Another punch. Another. Another.

Suna starts crying too. He takes both of Osamu’s wrists, holds them tight and he struggles against them for a little while, until he seemingly gives up, instead, resting his forehead against Suna’s shoulder in resignation. 

“You can’t just leave me when things get hard. Yer supposed to tell me you can’t be without me.” He croaks. “Yer supposed to tell me ya love me too damn much to do that.”

Suna wraps his arms around him tightly and he sags against him, both their knees going weak as they sink to the carpeted floor. 

“I love you.” Suna whispers, reaching up to stroke Osamu’s hair as he presses kisses to the side of his face desperately, “I love you. I can’t be without you.” He says, “We’ll work on it.” Another kiss. “I’m not going anywhere.” Another. “You’re being stupid. Of course, I love you.”

He finally reaches Osamu’s lips and it tastes like salt when he kisses him. “I’m sorry. It was all my fault. I love you.”

Osamu sucks in a shaky breath, trying to calm his breathing, before he speaks.

“It’s so stupid, Rin.” He says tiredly against Suna’s lips, “We’re so miserable. But I just can’t let ya go.”

“Then don’t.” Suna says firmly, holding him closer against him, “Don’t  _ ever.” _

They sit on the floor, holding each other for a length of time that neither of them will remember, later on joined by Flame trying to snuggle in between them. 

“I’ll do better.” Suna promises. “We’ll be better.”

“I’ll do better.” Osamu echoes softly. “We’ll be better.”

“ _ Reoooooooow _ . _ ”  _ says Flame.

They both chuckle, despite themselves. 

“Yeah.” Suna nods at their cat.

“And that too.” Osamu smiles.

  
  


**_Now_ **

“Jesus,” Sakusa exhales, “And you managed to hang on for three years longer after that?”

“Well, don’t put it  _ that  _ way.” Suna chuckles lowly, “You’re making it sound like we had a gun to our heads. We chose to stay together. I don’t regret that we did.”

“Was it easier then?” Sakusa asks, “After all that… did it get easier?”

Suna takes a long sip of wine at that question, licking his lips, before meeting eyes with his cat.

_ “Reow.” _

He lightly strokes the side of her face. “It never stopped being hard. It was still hard all the fucking time, even if we tried to work on it. Why the hell else did we end up breaking up anyway, you know?” He says honestly, “But the thing is… at the same time, we were still really happy too. So, that made it hard to let go.”

Suna feels the need to explain but when he meets Sakusa’s gaze, he finds that he doesn’t have to. He knows he understands. 

So instead, he simply says, “It was hard but… even the  _ fewest _ of highs we had back then were enough to level out our lows. ‘Cause we loved each other too fucking much. That’s all it was.”

For the first time that night, Sakusa smiles at him. It’s barely there, you’d barely notice it if you didn’t know him, but Suna does. He  _ smiles _ at him and slightly raises his wine glass.

Suna returns that smile, clinking his glass against his as they down the rest of their wine in unison. 

The delicate moment is broken by Sakusa’s phone ringing. He picks it up instantly when he sees the name on the screen, pressing it to his ear. 

“Atsumu?”

A few seconds pass and Suna nearly jumps in his seat as the man flies out of the couch, scaring Flame who starts scrambling to get on top of Suna instead. 

“WHAT? What the  _ fuck?  _ Why were you there? What’d you do? Atsu—”

A pause.  _ “Osamu?”  _

Suna’s heart stops. 

After a few more seconds and a couple more noises of affirmation from Sakusa, he hangs up the phone. 

“What the fuck was that?” Suna asks, all the while trying to emit the energy of someone who didn’t care  _ too  _ much, by taking a sip of his wine. “What happened with Samu?”

Sakusa turns to him, looking slightly disheveled from the conversation. “Apparently, he just had to pick Osamu up from the police station. They’re coming up right now.”

Suna spits all the wine back into his glass.  _ “What?” _

__

“Listen,” Osamu slurs, stubbornly pushing away the cup of water the officer is trying to offer him, “Ya gotta find ‘im, officer. He… he has my cat. Flame! She’s my daughter!”

“To be fair to the guy,” Another officer sitting at the desk says, “It sounds tough. I mean, you already lost your boyfriend of ten years  _ and  _ your cat? Shit is rough.”

“Exactly!” Osamu laments, laying his head down, smushing his cheek against the cold table. “Ya get me.”

“I mean, at least you got the apartment, right?”

“‘Course I did, it’s technically  _ my  _ apartment ‘cause I stayed there way more than him anyway, so if he took it that wouldn’t make any sense.” Osamu argues, “So the apartment doesn’t even count in this split.”

“Okay, kid.” The officer in front of him nods, handing him a phone instead of the water. “It’s been fun listening to you but you’re plastered and you’ve gotta call a family member or something to get you outta here.”

“I have a twin.” Osamu sniffs pitifully, making grabby hands at the phone. “He’s usually the one who’s like this and I’m usually the one who’s gotta rescue him ‘n shit so he owes me. If I call him, will ya arrest Sunarin?”

“That’s nice, kid. We’ll try and arrest him if you call your brother.”

The two officers watch as he dials a number and then waits. 

Once someone seemingly picks up, Osamu only says, “Tsumu? I’m at the station. Pick me up so I can go home.” before hanging up.

He sets the phone down and lays his head back on the table.

“I don’t think you should’ve said it like that.” The officer says. 

Osamu, in all of his drunken glory, smirks. “I did that on purpose.”

“You think he really has a twin?” One of the officers whispers.

He shrugs. “I guess we’ll see.” 

“Come on, kid.” One of them says after a number of minutes, trying to get the drunk boy to sit upright. “You really need to drink some water.” 

In record time, Miya Osamu’s blonde look-alike comes barging into the glass doors, looking like he had just fought through two wars and built a home with his bare hands. He sees his brother in the middle of two police officers and in his panic, seems to automatically decide on something.

With all the courage, love, and stupidity of a twin brother, he runs to them and yells, “You can’t put him in jail! Whatever happened, he didn’t do it! It was me! That’s why I dyed my hair, see! To evade the law! You can’t take him!”

The two police officers still and Osamu snorts loudly. “Look. That’s my dumb twin. That’s Tsumu,” He points, “He’s the one I told ya guys about.”

Atsumu blinks rapidly, as if trying to assess the situation. The two police officers take pity on him and explain.

“He got here an hour ago, drunk out of his mind and ranting about some guy named.. Rin? Sunarin? Boyfriend of ten years and they broke up a year ago?” 

“Ah.” Atsumu says, looking like he finally gets what’s happening, staring at his brother with a look that somehow was able to express annoyance, pity, worry, and pure rage all at once. “I see.”

“Anyway, he was here trying to report his ex boyfriend for stealing his cat named Flame.” 

“Fascinating.” He says, easily lifting up the by now only half conscious Osamu. Despite the situation, Atsumu whips out his phone, and starts filming. “Sorry, but can ya tell that story again from the beginning?”

After Atsumu gets his blackmail material, he focuses back on the task at hand and drags his brother into his car. Osamu all but flops onto the passenger seat, bonking his head against the car window. He groans and Atsumu winces apologetically.

He comes up with a lot of questions as he starts driving, eyes periodically going back and forth between the road and his twin. But by the looks of it, Osamu wasn’t in any condition to be able to answer any questions.

Atsumu manages to hold off for a few more minutes before exhaling loudly, cracking. “Samu.”

He’s only rewarded with a tired groan. 

“What’s wrong with ya, huh?” He asks, genuinely concerned, “This isn’t like you. Hell, I’d expect somethin’ like this comin’ from me more than you.”

Osamu stays silent.

_“Samu,”_ Atsumu damn near begs, “Ya  _ have _ to talk to me. You were doin’  _ fine _ before. Did somethin’ happen after the wedding?”

Osamu licks his lips, lazily turning his head to smirk weakly at Atsumu. It looks more like a grimace. 

“See, that’s where yer wrong, Tsumu,” He slurs, raising a pointed finger, “I was never doin’ fine… I jus’ don’t like havin’ to show ya what a fuckin’ mess I am.”

Atsumu would be mad. Because the first rule of being twins in the rule book he’d made up in his head, is that you tell each other everything.  _ Everything.  _ It’s a rule he religiously followed whether Osamu wanted to hear any of his shit or not. He would hear it anyway. Because that’s just how it worked. 

But then he thinks about the fact that he only found out about his breakup with Suna  _ months  _ later, thinks about how during those months Osamu was having a rough time with the restaurant, he never talked to him about it and he had to find out through their parents, thinks about high school and how Osamu told him he was quitting volleyball only  _ after  _ he’d already decided, after thinking about it for months on end.

He thinks about how Osamu had spent all these months presenting this image of being sad about the breakup, but generally getting by. 

He looks at the state he’s in right now.

“Tsumu,” Osamu says urgently, putting a hand to his mouth, “Pull over.”

Atsumu doesn’t blink as he does just that, and Osamu swings the car door open, leaning out slightly, and vomiting onto the pavement.

Atsumu can only sigh, rubbing his brother’s back as he reaches for a water bottle in the back of the car. 

Atsumu would be mad. But more than anything right now, he’s just really fucking sad.

“Jesus, Samu,” He whispers, “Yer so fuckin’ weird sometimes. If ya can’t rely on yer damn twin, who can you rely on then?”

  
  


**_Then_ **

Suna gently dabs Osamu’s cheekbone with a cotton bud covered in disinfectant, wincing slightly as the boy hisses in pain.

“Sorry, but you’re gonna have to put with this for a second,” Suna scolds, “‘Cause you and Atsumu were being fucking  _ idiots.” _

Osamu huffs grumpily, staring at the wall of the mostly empty Inarizaki gym. “He started it. I was just tryin’ to have a calm,  _ mature  _ conversation.”

Suna looks at him flatly. “Samu, you opened the conversation with,  _ ‘Hey, Tsumu, I’m quittin’ volleyball ‘cause I don’t wanna have to be with ya 24/7 ‘til we grow old.’” _

“What’s wrong with that?” Osamu argues, “I was tellin’ the truth!”

Suna sighs and shakes his head, going back to tending to his injuries. “You knew that’d get him riled up. He’s been sensitive about the thought of you quitting on him since the time you didn’t get invited to the Youth Training Camp.”

“Why does it even matter?” Osamu grouses, “S’not like me quittin’ is gonna affect his volleyball career.”

Suna stills. “You know it’s not about that. He’s only ever played volleyball with you. He  _ likes  _ playing volleyball with you, apparently enough to want to do it for the rest of his life. Of course, he’s fucking upset that you don’t want that too.”

Osamu’s quiet at that for a while, as if digesting those words, and Suna’s almost surprised at the thought that he didn’t seem to already know that. 

So, Suna continues to disinfect his wounds, reaching down for a band aid.

When Osamu speaks again, he only says, “I just realized I can’t live the rest of my life livin’ in Tsumu’s shadow, y’know?”

Suna pauses in the middle of unsticking the band aid, looking up at his boyfriend. The gym is so damn quiet that he almost hears the sound of his own heart breaking.

“Do you really think that about yourself?” Suna asks, because he knows for a fact that Atsumu has never, not for one fucking second, ever thought that way about his brother.

Much to Suna’s dismay, Osamu only shrugs. “It’s not anythin’ he did. I just don’t think I was ever meant to go on this journey with him, s’all. Besides, I like food a lot. I think it’s somethin’ I’ll succeed at and be able to go places doin’.”

Suna usually never took sides whenever the twins fought because they were both stupid. Especially when it came to each other. But if he were to be completely honest with himself, this time, he couldn’t help but side with Atsumu. 

Not because he thought Osamu was wrong for wanting to do anything other than volleyball for the rest of his life, but simply because the selfish part of him didn’t want things to change. 

“I’m going pro too, you know?” Suna says quietly, “Do you think you’re not meant to go on that journey with me too?”

He doesn’t answer that. 

Once Osamu’s all cleaned up, Suna runs a hand through his hair, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head. “Good as new.”

Osamu blinks up at him, expression tender as he says, “Doesn’t matter what I’ll be doin’, Rin. I’ll still go on any fuckin’ journey with ya.”

  
  
  


**_Now_ **

“What the  _ fuck!” _ Suna exclaims, hurriedly setting his wine glass down, “Why the fuck was he in the police st— wait, no, that’s not my business. I have to go. He can’t see me here.” He says, taking Flame in his arms, searching for his jacket in a panic.

“I _just said_ they’re coming up, they’re in the elevator!” Sakusa hisses, “You can’t get out of here without bumping into them!”

“Then, I’ll fucking take the stairs, I don’t  _ care, _ I gotta—”

Suddenly, they’re interrupted by loud footsteps, low bickering, and the sound of keys jangling.

“Get behind the kitchen counter.” Sakusa directs, Suna instantly switching to stealth mode as he finds his jacket, drapes it over his cat, and all but flies into a crouching position behind the marble counter.

Sakusa is just as fast as him, taking everything from the coffee table, swiftly putting the wine back into a cupboard and putting their two mostly empty glasses in the sink.

They make it just in time before the door slammed open, revealing a dead tired Atsumu piggybacking a bleary eyed Osamu.

Sakusa blinks at them, not sure what to say at the sight.

Atsumu huffs out an exhausted breath. “A little fuckin’ help here, dearest husband of mine?” He demands, slowly dragging himself into the apartment, “He’s thrown up  _ twice  _ on the way here. One of those times, in my fuckin’  _ car.” _

Sakusa hurries over to them, closing their front door and taking one of Osamu’s arms. “Well, to be fair, you’ve done that in his car too. Probably more than once. Actually, three times, right?”

“Four.” Osamu grumbles against Atsumu’s shoulder.

“Shut up, ya scared me half to death today.” Atsumu scolds, unceremoniously dumping his brother on the couch. “I thought I was ‘boutta go to jail for you! Don’t ya ever do somethin’ like that again!”

Sakusa eyes them wearily, slowly making his way back towards the kitchen to prepare some water for the drunk twin and to make sure Suna and Flame were faring well. 

“Psh,” Osamu smirks, rolling onto his side on the couch, pressing his face into a throw pillow, “Ya gotta admit that was kinda funny.”

_ “Reow.” _

Suna’s eyes widen, pressing his cat closer to his chest, pulling his jacket over them both. Sakusa winces.

“What the hell was that?” Atsumu exclaims, head whipping around to look at Sakusa, “Was that you?”

“Sounded like… a _cat.”_ Osamu squirms, eyebrows furrowing. “Sounded like Flame. Am I losin’ it? Tsumu, tell me. Am I goin’ insane?”

“I, uh… that was me.” Sakusa forces out, clenching his fists at his side, “I… just wanted to… try it.”

Atsumu looks horrified. “What the hell did I marry into?”

Sakusa wants to die.

The blonde has to shake himself out of his shock and horror, before turning back to his brother.

“Okay. For my own well being, I’m gonna forget that jus’ happened. Look, sure, I got fuckin’ blackmail material for the next five years but that’s not the point.” Atsumu huffs, sitting down next to Osamu’s feet. “This is gettin’ outta hand, Samu. Yer gonna have to fuckin’ talk to me. I just had to pick you up from the police station ‘cause ya got drunk and told them to arrest Sunarin for breakin’ yer heart and gettin’ yer cat. That warrants a goddamn  _ intervention.” _

Sakusa’s heart sinks at those words, gazing down at Suna who looked shell-shocked. Everyone in the room right now knew what kind of person Miya Osamu was. And he just wasn’t someone who would ever allow himself to do anything like that. For him to be the one lying on the couch drunk in Atsumu’s apartment, when it’s been the other way around all their lives, everyone knew this wasn’t just a low point, but his lowest.

Osamu sighs heavily, kicking his feet against Atsumu’s thighs until they’re basically on top of them. Atsumu grimaces. 

“Hey, Tsumu,” He says, eyes still closed, “Can I tell ya a secret?”

“A secret? Ya still keep those from me?” Atsumu makes an offended face. “I want ya to tell me  _ all  _ yer secrets, ya asshole.”

“Nah, this one I couldn’t tell ya for a reason.” He continues, “Tsumu, did ya know? Back when we were kids… I actually really hated you, a little bit.”

Atsumu blinks. “I mean, I did too.”

“No, ya don’t get it.” Osamu groans, shaking his head frustratedly, “Y’know how I always used to talk shit about ya and say you were the petty one between us? It was because I was always tryin’ to hide the fact that it was actually  _ me.  _ Because it always fuckin’ bothered me how everyone would look at us ‘n only ever see you.”

Atsumu closes his mouth.

“It was always Atsumu  _ and then _ Osamu. Like I was jus’ a second thought.” He chuckles sadly, “Y’know how many confessions I got in middle school that were supposed to be for you? No, ya don’t. ‘Cause I never told ya… I didn’t want to.”

“That’s why you suggested we dye our hair.” Atsumu thinks out loud, voice uncharacteristically soft.

The look on Osamu’s face is confirmation enough. 

“With volleyball too.” He adds, “It’s funny ‘cause I remember I was the one who got ya into it, remember? Forced ya to watch games with me ‘n everything. I used to be better than ya too, back then. Feels like a lifetime ago. Doesn’t even feel fuckin’ real anymore that I was ever better than you at fuckin’...  _ volleyball,  _ of all things.”

“You were never better than me.” Atsumu argues without any bite to it, because it’s just a reflex. Osamu only smiles.

“Ya know I was.” He says, “And I know yer probably laughin’ at all this ‘cause ya used to be insecure about the fact that people always liked me more than they liked you. And I guess that was true, ‘cause I seemed nice compared to yer asshole self back then.” 

“Shut the fuck u—”

“But that didn’t matter to me.” Osamu continued, “We were always so competitive ‘bout the strangest fuckin’ things. You always wanted what I had and I always wanted what you had, that we’d forget to be grateful for what we  _ did  _ have. You were mad ‘cause people liked me better… and I was mad ‘cause people  _ looked  _ at you more.”

Atsumu can’t seem to say anything to that, Sakusa similarly frozen in the kitchen, glass of water forgotten. Suna’s hugging himself and his cat on the floor, trembling for a reason he doesn’t fully understand. 

“That went on for a fuckin’ while, that ugly feelin’. I seemed like the better twin ‘cause ya made yer feelings obvious while I always kept them hidden but that went on for awhile.” He laughs like it’s funny, “And then… we met Sunarin. Remember that day?”

Suna’s fingers clench against his knees. 

“From the first moment I met him, I knew I wanted ‘im, Tsumu. Know why?” He asks. 

“‘Cause he was pretty as hell?” Atsumu tries, weakly.

“Well, yer right about that.” He agrees easily, “But also ‘cause when he looked at us... he was lookin’ at  _ me.  _ He was the first one who ever did that.”

“And ya know what, Tsumu? Slowly, ‘cause of him,  _ real _ slowly, everythin’ that used to bother me about you, stopped matterin’ so much. When I fell in love with him and he fell in love with me, I learned to look at ya ‘n stop seein’ you as a rival ‘n just started seein’ you as my brother. And that made all the goddamn difference because then, even when we’d compete and I’d lose, I could still be happy because I learned how to be happy seein’  _ you  _ happy.”

Atsumu sniffs.

“Don’t fuckin’  _ cry,  _ Tsumu,” Osamu groans, kicking him in the knee but without any actual commitment to it, “I’m tryin’ to be honest with ya here.”

“I’m  _ not  _ cryin’,” Atsumu argues, obviously crying, “I’m listening.”

Osamu sighs with all the exhaustion in the world, as if this was taking years off of his life, “I’m not sayin’ this shit again ‘cause we’ve been sayin’ it way too fuckin’ much these days, but I love the hell outta ya, alright? And lovin’ Suna made me realize just how much I did. ‘Cause I love seein’ you play volleyball, Tsumu. I love seein’ how you fuckin’  _ shine  _ on the court. Because you’ve always belonged out there, for the whole damn world to see. You were so  _ happy  _ and I was real fuckin’ happy too and it didn’t matter anymore that people looked at ya more ‘cause I realized I never needed any of that. ‘Cause I had one person… just that  _ one  _ person, who saw me, who looked at me, who knew me, who  _ loved  _ me not ‘cause I was Miya Atsumu’s twin but ‘cause he just did… just me, as  _ Osamu, _ ”

He smiles weakly, tears slowly trickling down the side of his face. “And that was enough.”

“Samu…” Atsumu whimpers pitifully.

Osamu shakes his head, like he already knows what his brother’s about to say. Like he knows he’s about to apologize for something he doesn’t need to apologize for. 

“I’m really happy that yer married to the love of yer life, Tsumu. You guys deserve it more than anyone I fuckin’ know. You’ve had me beat at a lot of things. And everyday, I thank fuckin’  _ god  _ that ya did, ‘n that yer happy now, ‘cause you were such a damn mess before.” 

“But,  _ god—“  _ He exhales shakily before continuing, “I’m just so fuckin’  _ jealous.  _ I’m jealous that ya get to have this. I’m jealous that ya get to live together ‘n  _ play  _ together. I’m jealous that no matter how happy I am with my restaurant, I keep wonderin’ if maybe I shoulda just gone pro, if that meant I’d be able to save the  _ one  _ thing I was always so sure of. ‘Cause I always thought…”

He chokes on his words, trying to gather himself and failing, voice cracking as he says, “I always thought that I was  _ at least _ gonna be married before you.” 

It’s with those words that Osamu starts crying in earnest and Atsumu starts crying too.

“I know it sounds really fuckin’ selfish of me,” He sobs, “But I was really hopin’ I was gonna at least beat you at that.”

Osamu continues to cry, cheek pressed against the throw pillow. Atsumu leans down, resting his forehead against Osamu’s knees, hugging his twin by his legs as he cries with him.

Sakusa finds himself having to hold tears back himself as he rests his gaze on the man sitting on the floor a few steps away from him, muffling his own sobs into his jacket. 

And he wonders, for a love that lasted so long, a love that they were once so sure of, a love so unyielding that they kept stubbornly holding onto it even when they probably shouldn’t have,  _ what was the last straw? _

  
  


**_Then_ **

People don’t realize that a lot of the time, relationships don’t end with a bang but with a whimper. That night, there was no crying, there was no yelling, and for a love with a flame that had always burned so fiercely in them, it died with a quiet flicker.

In the middle of their argument, Suna forgets what they were fighting about in the first place. It always went like this. 

They would argue about one thing, probably something stupid like forgetting to buy flour, and then it’d turn into something else and then another, until they’re swearing at each other and Suna ends up sleeping on the couch with Flame, and they’d reluctantly make up the next day, if only to make the most of the little time they had together. That’s usually how the vicious cycle went. 

It’s strange. People say they usually feel it when a breakup is coming. But in Suna’s head, it was just another argument. Because it was them. They couldn’t  _ actually  _ break up, right? They argue and they kiss and they have makeup sex and then it’s fine until the next fight and that’s just what they do.

It’s only in the middle of the fight that it hits him. He doesn’t even  _ remember _ what it was that’d started their fight but it hits him just then.

_ Oh god,  _ he thinks,  _ we’re about to break up, aren’t we? _

_ “Jesus, _ Rin,” Osamu exhales, rubbing his hands down his face roughly, “We need to stop doin’ this. We’re ruinin’ each other.”

_ We’re ruining each other,  _ that’s what he said.

And the more that Suna thought about it, the more he saw the truth in that statement. They were ruining each other. In more ways than one. These days, whenever they yelled at each other, Suna would find himself remembering his childhood, at the way his parents used to fight, and he realizes they were starting to sound more and more like them. He realizes that back then, Osamu was so excited to open his restaurant, so excited to work with food, sell his food, and see people’s faces when they tasted it. But slowly, Suna had watched the light in his eyes dim, replaced with uncertainty and regret that said,  _ maybe if I’d chosen volleyball this wouldn’t be happening to us. _

The worst part was, the absolute fucking  _ worst _ part was, that Suna found a part of himself agreeing. He thinks back to years ago, when he fell in love with volleyball for the first time, thinking that it’d be the only thing that he’d stay in love with for the rest of his life. He was living his dream now. 

A professional volleyball player. Division 1. Starter. He’s been with his boyfriend for ten goddamn years. He should be happy. He should be on Cloud 9 everyday of his life.

But he’s miserable. They’re fucking miserable.

When did this even happen? When did he stop seeing volleyball as the love of his life, and start seeing it as the reason he was falling out with his? 

When did their love start trapping each other? When did their love turn so selfish? When did Suna start hating the person he was?

“Osamu,” Suna finds himself saying and his own voice sounds so foreign to him, “Let’s end this. For good.”

This time, unlike all the other times before, Osamu doesn’t fight him. He doesn’t even look upset. Just exhausted. 

Instead of fighting, he lowers his head, clasping his hands together to stop them from shaking. 

“Damn,” He chuckles in a way that sounded the farthest thing from humorous, “Alright. I guess that’s it for ya, huh?”

“Don’t make it sound like this is what I want. I  _ don’t  _ want this.” Suna grits out, forcing himself not to cry. Not when Osamu wasn’t crying, either. “But  _ look at us. _ Don’t you think it’s the better road to take, at this point?”

At that moment, Suna truly believed that he was doing the right thing. Truly believed that maybe, if he did this, then maybe one day, he’d see that bright light return in the eyes of the man he once loved so much because of it. 

But when Osamu raises his head to look at him, he falters. 

“Better for who, Rin?” He asks, voice barely even a whisper. “‘Cause it sure as  _ hell _ isn’t better for me.”

Suna feels his soul shatter. “Samu,”

He shakes his head decidedly. “No, whatever. Yer right,” He says without looking at him, standing up, “I’ve had enough. I know you’ve had enough too. Let’s end this. For good.”

Suna bites his bottom lip until he tastes blood. “Samu, I fucking love you, you know that, right?” He pleads, “I’m doing this  _ because  _ I love you. I’m doing this ‘cause I don’t want to lose you completely. Lose _ us. _ I’m trying to save whatever we can have left.”

Osamu is silent for a long time. When he finally meets his eyes, it looks like dying light.

“I don’t know what’s left of us, Rin.” He says quietly, like he’s talking to himself, “I don’t even know what’s left of  _ me.” _

It ends not with a bang but with a whimper. A love with a flame that burned so fiercely, dying with a quiet flicker.

  
  


**_Now_ **

Osamu wakes up to a blinding bright light (the sun) and a loud, pained groan (himself). 

“Rise ‘n fuckin’ shine, ya piece of shit.” Atsumu deadpans, shoving a glass of water and painkillers in his face. “Ya better start grovelin’ at my feet now if ya want me to forgive you for yesterday.”

“Shit,” Osamu hisses, taking the pills gratefully and chugging the entire glass of water down, “What the  _ fuck.” _

“What were ya thinkin’, drinkin’ yerself to death all alone?” Atsumu asks, “‘That’s real fuckin’ depressing.”

Osamu sits up, looking around the room in a daze, trying to recall everything that could have happened. He realizes he’s in his brother’s apartment. 

Forgetting everything from the night before was something shitty that always came with him getting too drunk. 

“Fuck,” Osamu rubs his eyes, “Is my brain makin’ shit up or did I really end up at the police station yesterday?”

“Yeah.” Atsumu says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Ya called me to pick you up ‘n everything and then threw up in my car. Apparently, ya got drunk and told the police to arrest Sunarin for takin’ Flame. I have video proof if ya wanna see.”

“No, I really fuckin’  _ don’t  _ wanna see that. Delete that shit.” Osamu bites back all the while turning red as a tomato, “What else happened?”

Atsumu purses his lips, wondering how exactly he was supposed to bring up last night’s conversation without making his brother close off. He settles with, “Do ya remember what ya told me last night?”

“No.” 

He answers a little too fast for it to be true and Atsumu can tell by the look in his face that he  _ did  _ remember that part, even if it’s just a little of it.

And while talking about it was important, Atsumu knew his brother enough to know when not to push something. And the more that he thought about it, the more he realized that they've technically already talked about it once, in a way. So instead of pushing, he asks something else.

“Ya told me back then that the breakup was pretty much mutual.” He says, “Was it really?”

Osamu snorts like he’s holding back a full laugh. “We’re havin’ this conversation?”

“Yes, we are.” Atsumu says. 

Osamu knew better than to argue with that tone. Especially when his head was in the middle of trying to split itself open. “It was and it wasn’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I was fuckin’ smart enough to know that we were fallin’ apart anyway,” He says, gaze fixed on his lap, “— but I couldn’t admit it to myself.”

“Were ya still happy with him?” Atsumu asks, “By the end of it… were you guys ever still happy?”

“We were.” Osamu answers, “But it wasn’t enough anymore to level out how bad everything was, most of the time. Look, I dunno what to tell ya. I knew it was the right choice to make, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t fuckin’ suck. It was ten years, Tsumu. How the  _ fuck  _ are ya supposed to let go of ten years so easily?”

“Yeah,” Atsumu nods softly, “I know.”

They’re quiet for a little while, sitting in comfortable silence, the kind of silence that to them, still felt like the closest thing to home. 

“How about now, though?” Atsumu turns to look at his brother properly, “Ya broke up ‘cause ya weren’t happy… are you two at least a little happier now?”

Osamu really does laugh at that. 

“The fuck does it look like?” He scoffs, “We weren’t happy together anymore but we aren’t happy apart, either. When I realized that, I started goin’ crazy and tryin’ to get back with him, convinced that it’d be better for us to be miserable together instead of alone. But he doesn’t even want me back. So, what the hell does that leave me with?”

It was usually Osamu who had the words of wisdom. It was usually his role to knock Atsumu into his senses and remind him of things he already knew but needed to hear out loud. So honestly, Atsumu wasn’t that well-versed when it came to the situation being turned around. But, he tries anyway. 

For Osamu, he had no choice but to try. It’s all his brother ever did for him. 

“The thing is, you had ten years with Sunarin to try and be happy together ‘n in the end, it didn’t really work out, did it?” Atsumu says, making his tone as gentle as possible, taking into consideration the delicate state Osamu was in, “And I’m not tryin’ to say that there’s no way you guys could work again, because hell, I don’t fuckin’ know that. I was  _ there  _ for so much of the times that you two were happy, that I can’t  _ help _ but think that you two will work this out, eventually.”

Atsumu scoots a little closer, resting his hand on his twin’s shoulder and squeezing. “But ya had ten years with him, Samu. Ya had ten years to try ‘n be happy with him.” He says pointedly, “And you’ve only had one year with  _ you.  _ Don’t ya think you should give yerself a little more time to try ‘n be happy with just you, before worryin’ about bein’ happy with anyone else?” 

Osamu admittedly liked being known as the smarter twin. He prided himself in being two minutes younger, but two brain cells older. But sometimes, especially during times like these, he liked being reminded that his twin was just a little bit older than him. Because then, it didn’t feel so pathetic to rely on him, just once in a while.

He groans loudly, body leaning to the side until his head flops down on Atsumu’s lap. He pulls his blankets up to cover his face. 

“You’ve changed a lot, y’know? It’s kinda annoying,” He grumbles, “But in a good way.”

Atsumu chuckles, patting his brother’s back comfortingly the way their mother always did when they threw tantrums as kids. “Who d’ya think I got it from?”

“Damn scrub.”

“Hey, Samu?”

“Yeah, Tsumu?”

“Do ya remember what I told ya last year when we were up on that mountain?” Atsumu asks, “Remember that?”

Osamu laughs mutely. “‘Course I do.”

“Well, I’m not sayin’ all that shit again but I need ya to remember what I fuckin’ told ya that day, okay?” He says in a way that makes it sound like he’s never said anything more important in his life, “I know ya don’t wanna talk about what ya told me last night so I won’t make ya. But I  _ need  _ you to remember what I told ya that day.”

Osamu’s silent for a little, face still hidden in his covers, before he mumbles, “Yeah.”

After a few more seconds of silence, Atsumu rests his hand on top of his hair and simply says,

“Everyone knows that my Priority 1 in life is myself, Priority 1.1 is Omi, and Priority 1.2 is mom and dad—”

“Fuckin’ loser.” Osamu deadpans.

“— but my Priority 0 is _you.”_ He finishes, effectively shutting Osamu down. “No one means more to me than you. So, if ya don’t  _ stop  _ puttin’ yerself down, I’m gonna have to fuckin’ kill ya. Hear me?”

Osamu pretends he isn’t crying. “Mmm.”

“Good.” Atsumu huffs, resuming to patting the boy’s back. “By the way, Flame’s sleepin’ in the living room with Omi right now.”

Osamu sits up in an instant.  _ “What?” _

“Yeah,” He says casually, “Turns out, Suna was behind the kitchen counter the whole time last night ‘cause he was hangin’ out with Omi before we got here.”

Osamu blinks rapidly. 

“Why the  _ fuck  _ didn’t ya open with that?” He all but flies out of the bed, “Omi-kun! I’m takin’ her home in a few, okay?”

“No!” He yells back.

__

“Holy fuck.” Komori says breathily in awe as he shimmies out of his volleyball shorts, “Sakusa already told me a little about this over the phone, but this is so messy that I’m almost impressed. Why’d ya leave Flame there?”

“Half because Sakusa wouldn’t let go of her and half because honestly, as much as I love that jobless cat and even if it  _ was  _ my idea to get her, Osamu _did_ end up spending more time with her since I was away all the goddamn time. And I didn’t think he’d… you know, have a whole fucking breakdown in the police station over it.”

“Damn,” Komori whistles, “You messed him up pretty badly, Sunarin.”

“Fuck,” Suna exhales heavily and Komori can tell he’s trying not to have a meltdown, “— I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do here. What the  _ hell _ am I supposed to do? I only broke up with him ‘cause I thought it was the right thing to do, but  _ was it?  _ I’m not even happy!  _ He’s  _ not even happy!”

“I don’t like how you’re asking me that as if I should have an answer.” Komori says, raising his hands up as if trying to protect himself, “I’ve had enough of giving out gay relationship advice. Why do you guys keep coming to me? I’m single and straight.”

He’s completely ignored as Suna continues to vent.

“It’s just that… for something that felt so fucking  _ right,  _ towards the end, I couldn’t help but feel like maybe I’d been loving him all wrong the whole time.” He thinks out loud, “I must’ve been doing something really fucking wrong if by the end, he couldn’t even feel it.” 

“I don’t think I know enough about the past ten years, Sunarin,” He says, “But I do know that a relationship is a two way street. I’m sure you probably did some things wrong, but I’m pretty sure he did too.” 

“It’s kinda like…” Suna continues, seemingly deaf to everything else other than his own thoughts, “At the beginning, we were like a bonfire, you know? Those really stupidly big ones you make at camps and retreats and shit? And overtime, it just kept getting smaller and weaker ‘til it was nothing but some dumb, melted candle with a flame that was only still alive ‘cause the two of us were desperately trying to protect it from a goddamn hurricane.” 

Komori tilts his head. “You’re so dramatic. It’s a  _ candle. _ Why would you be so desperate to keep protecting  _ one  _ measly flame? They go off all the time. If the flame dies, then find shelter and wait for the hurricane to pass, get a match or a lighter and just light another fucking fire.” 

Suna blinks.

It’s almost stupid how obvious that is. It’s like telling a person that if they fall off the wagon, then they should just get back on the wagon. It’s so stupid.

But he  _ did _ have a point. Annoyingly, he had a fucking point.

“I’m gonna call Osamu.” Suna says to the wall. “I think I need to talk to him.”

“You do that.” Komori nods, closing his locker. “And buy me a drink one of these days. ‘Cause I do this shit for free.”

__

_ Hey, Samu, I know this is outta nowhere,  _ Suna’s voice replays in his head,  _ but I just… really need to talk to you. Can I come over? _

That was a little over thirty minutes ago. What he’d meant to say to that was  _ no, fuck you, ya eavesdropping asshole,  _ but what he’d ended up saying was,  _ yeah sure, actually I’m free right now.  _

Because of his stupid mouth, he just had to cram a year’s worth of spring cleaning in twenty minutes. The empty beer bottles, the pizza boxes he kept swearing to god he’d throw out tomorrow, and all the traces of evidence that he hasn’t slept in their—  _ his _ room in months, and has instead been camping out on the couch.

He looks over at Flame who was purring on top of her favorite throw pillow, seemingly happy to be home. He’s happy to have his stupid cat back but can’t help but lament over the fact that he only got her back because his ex boyfriend took pity on his pathetic ass. 

He groans loudly into the air of the coffin that he used to call their apartment. 

“What am I gonna do, Flame? Is this it? Is he gonna cut me off for good ‘cause I’ve been fuckin’ crazy?”

Instead of hearing a doorbell ringing, Osamu just hears the door clicking open. He whips his head around and meets eyes with Suna Rintarou.

It’s the first time he’s back in the apartment in months. He hasn’t been back since he’d taken the last of his things. 

“Rin.” He breathes out.

Suna raises a hand, jingling his keys. “I realized I still had these.”

Osamu chuckles breathily. “Ya took every last one of yer socks but still had yer apartment keys, huh?”

Flame meows, trotting over happily to greet Suna by rubbing her head against his legs and the feeling is so familiar that for half a second, just _ half _ , Suna almost reflexively says,  _ ‘I’m home.’ _

He only realizes he’s just a guest now when Osamu coughs awkwardly, motioning to the couch. “Wanna sit or somethin’? I can get us some drinks.”

Suna forces a smile. “Just some tea then, maybe,” He says, shrugging, “I don’t think us drinking together would be a good idea.”

Osamu winces. “Right. Tea, then.”

  
  


A few minutes later finds them sitting on the same couch they’d been sitting on over a year ago, the night they broke up.

The silence should be tense but it isn’t. A little awkward, as it’s always been the past months, but something about it still stayed warm. Like the remnants of a strong flame that had only recently died. 

“So,” Osamu squirms a little, taking a sip of his tea, “What’d ya come for? Are ya here to talk about visitation rights for Flame or somethin’?” He tries to joke. 

Suna takes a deep, steadying breath. “I’m here to talk about everything, I guess.”

Osamu closes his eyes at this, like he’s pained, like that’s the answer he’d been dreading to hear. 

He sighs heavily. 

“Shit,” He breathes out, “I’m sorry, Rin. Our breakup was s’posed to be clean ‘n everythin’. And I’ve been ruinin’ it by gettin’ drunk outta my ass and botherin’ ya all the time.”

Suna shakes his head. “Don’t say sorry for that, for fuck’s sake, I get it. Believe me, I do. It’s not about that.”

Osamu bites his lip. “Then, what’s it about?”

“I know how you are when you get drunk. You’re honest, more than you are any time else, but you never remember shit once you’re sober.” Suna says, looking up at him, meeting his eyes, “Do you remember anything you’ve drunkenly told me since we broke up?”

Osamu snorts. “Only in flashes. But I’m pretty sure I know the fuckin’ gist. Pathetic groveling for you to come back to me or somethin’ like that, right?”

Suna shakes his head at that. “You’ve only done that once. After the wedding. All the other times before that, all the phone calls, you never said that.”

Osamu genuinely looks shocked at the revelation. “What?”

“Yeah,” Suna answers, “Before the wedding, you never did. Not even once.”

“What the hell was I sayin’ then?” 

Suna leans back on the couch, keeping his gaze on the mug in between his hands, smiling sadly as he said, “You just kept asking me… what was left of you. Over and over again. You kept asking me what you were supposed to do now.”

“Oh.”

Suna chuckles. “But you never asked me to get back together with you.”

Osamu is a little taken aback at that, mirroring Suna’s position and leaning back against the couch. “Shit. I didn’t know that.”

“‘Course you didn’t. Idiot.” Suna says with a weak smile and a voice that still carried all the fondness in the world. 

“Sorry.” is all Osamu can even think of saying. 

Suna shakes his head. “I’m gonna tell you something and I need you to listen, okay? To everything.” He turns to face the man properly, “The whole reason we could never fucking understand each other towards the end was ‘cause we kept cutting each other off, and only listening to each other’s sides so we could come up with an argument against it. This time, I’m gonna talk and you’re gonna listen. And then after, you can talk. And I’ll listen. Can we do that?”

Osamu looks terrified more than anything else but he nods, nonetheless. 

“I should’ve tried harder.” Suna admits out loud, for the first time. “The fact that I’m always busy and all over the place with volleyball is something I can’t do much about, but the way I could show how much I care about you despite that… was something I could’ve controlled. I didn’t do enough. Shit, Samu, I’m _sorry._ I got so used to us being around each other all the time back in high school that when that ease started disappearing, I forgot that relationships actually took real  _ work.” _

Flame comes to sit on Osamu’s lap, curling into a ball as he starts running his fingers over her fur, probably in an attempt to make his emotions settle.

Flame always could tell when their emotions were all over the place.

“I just… didn’t know how to deal with so much about us changing, you know? I didn’t realize just how much would change as we grew up. I didn’t think a relationship could change so much just ‘cause the people in it were changing. I guess that’s stupid to think, but that’s what I thought. I thought we’d be playing volleyball for the rest of our lives, but you wanted to start doing business with food, and that was hard. Struggling to go pro while you were struggling to open a restaurant…  _ phew,  _ that was a fuckin’ nightmare.”

Osamu can’t help but laugh at that. He’s at least glad that they can now laugh at what used to be some of their biggest hurdles.

“Then, I started getting busier and coming home less and less, and you started to get busier too. And while we were both happier in our careers, we were exhausted more often than not. Hell, we didn’t even have each other to hold onto during the ups and downs ‘cause we couldn’t be in each other’s reach half the goddamn time. And slowly…  _ shit _ , Samu, I started hating volleyball. Can you believe that? The thing I’m most passionate about in the  _ world,  _ I started hating it… ‘cause I blamed it for taking me away from you.”

“Christ, Rin,” Osamu breathes out, “That’s messed up.”

“And I could see how much you were struggling, I could tell that you were questioning your own choices. Whether you should’ve just gone pro, not ‘cause you would’ve preferred it, but because you thought that it might’ve made our relationship better. And hell, I couldn’t have you hating your job… or hating your life. Not ‘cause of me. I couldn’t live with that. Not when I love you so fucking much. When I broke up with you… I really thought I was doing the right thing. Shit, I just wanted us to be happy. However the fuck that meant.”

Osamu refuses to meet his gaze. 

“Well, are ya?” He asks, “Happy, I mean?”

Suna genuinely thinks about it before he answers. “Honestly… I dunno.” He says, “Because on one hand, I miss you every fucking day and I keep getting wet every time it rains ‘cause I have no one to run after me with an umbrella whenever I forget—“

Osamu chuckles, “Stupid.”

“But on the other hand,” Suna sighs, “I’ve slowly started to fall in love with volleyball again. And that’s a good thing, right?”

And while Osamu looks sad as he does it, like it hurts him to admit it, he nods. “It is.”

“And while you’ve been a damn mess too, I know how well you’re doing at work these days. And that’s a good thing too.” 

“It is.” Osamu nods again.

“So… where do we stand then?” Suna asks, “Because you know something? I love you a lot, Samu. So much that even if we find someone else in the future, I know I’ll love you still. I'll probably love you _more._ But what am I supposed to do with that love when all it does is hurt us?”

They’re quiet after that, taking the time to let it all sink in, Osamu taking the time to wonder if that question had an answer at all, before he finally looks up at the other and asks, “Is it my turn to talk?”

Suna purses his lips and nods wordlessly.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about it lately. Not when I’m drunk, ‘cause when I’m drunk the part of me that’s just upset about everythin’ comes out but… before I go to sleep at night, I think about it. And I blamed you for a lot of things both before ‘n after the breakup. When really… now that I think about it, I don’t think it would’ve mattered what ya did. We would’ve crashed ‘n burned anyway with the way I was feelin’.”

“Why?” Suna asks.

“Well, you fuckin’ heard what I said to Tsumu, right?” Osamu gives him a look that makes Suna shrink a little, “It wasn’t a good way to be livin’. And it wasn’t a good way to be seein’ myself. It’s not even anythin’ that Tsumu did or you did, it was all me. I internalized all the shitty things I’ve felt since I was a goddamn kid ‘n let it eat me up ‘n look where that’s gotten me.”

Suna’s hands twitch, itching to reach out and touch Osamu to comfort him somehow, but he thinks better of it. “I’ve always wondered why you thought of yourself that way. It’s almost like you don’t even  _ like  _ yourself, you know what I mean?”

Osamu heaves a sigh, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. “Because I’m a fuckin’ idiot who turned his whole identity into bein’ a twin brother and a lover to two famous professional volleyball players ‘n nothin’ else.” He says plainly, “I realized that, just recently. So much of me comes from bein’ those two things, that bein’ away from both you and Tsumu all the time made me go a little crazy. And then, we broke up ‘n Tsumu went ‘n got married…  _ Jesus,  _ I know it’s not like that at all, but it  _ feels  _ like being abandoned.”

Osamu turns his head lazily to meet Suna’s eyes and they’re red-rimmed and teary, mirroring his own. “My restaurant’s been doin’ better than ever the past few months, Rin. I’ve been hyper focusing on it and despite everything, I’m fuckin’  _ proud  _ of that. I’m fuckin’ successful. But the thing is, I… still find myself wiping the bathroom mirror even when it’s never fogged up anymore.”

Suna starts sniffing at that, fighting back tears with his  _ life.  _

“You know, Tsumu told me that I should give it some time. Said that we spent ten years tryin’ to be happy together ‘n it didn’t work for shit, so maybe I should give myself more than just a year to to try ‘n be happy with myself.” Osamu snorts, “Can ya believe that? That came out of  _ Atsumu,  _ of all people.”

Suna smiles. “He’s gotten smart, huh?”

“Yeah. I agree with him fer what it’s worth,” Osamu laughs softly, secretly a little proud.

“— but the thing is, I just dunno how to stop lovin’ ya, Rin. It won’t go away. It hurts too damn much.”

It’s then that Komori’s words start playing in his head again. 

_ It’s a candle. Why would you be so desperate to keep protecting one measly flame? They go off all the time. If the flame dies, then find shelter and wait for the hurricane to pass, get a match or a lighter and just light another fucking fire. _

Find shelter, wait for the hurricane to pass, and light another fucking fire.

“Samu,” Suna asks, “Can I touch you?”

Osamu visibly freezes for a moment before slowly nodding. He lays a hand out beside him. 

Suna nearly starts crying at the sight, as he rests his hand on top of his. 

“What I _really_ want right now… is to fall in love with volleyball again. I wanna enjoy playing, without worrying if I’m hurting someone I love in the process. I wanna make it on the National team. I wanna play for the fuckin’  _ country.”  _

Osamu smiles at that, a genuine one, squeezing Suna’s hand in his. “And I know ya can.”

Suna continues, “And I want you to be happy, Samu.  _ Truly  _ happy and proud of yourself. Not ‘cause you’re Atsumu’s twin, not ‘cause you’re my boyfriend, I want you to look at yourself in the mirror and be happy with who you are and where you are because  _ you  _ got yourself to that place. I want…” 

Suna chokes on his words, gathering himself before continuing, “I wanna see the light in your eyes again. The light I fell in love with. The light that made me look at you and lock onto them the fucking second I saw you.”

Osamu’s chin wobbles and Suna knows they’re both goners at this point.

“I want us to find those versions of ourselves again.” Suna says, “And once we do, once we love who we are again, maybe… we can love each other better too.”

Osamu sobs out loud and Suna wipes away his tears with his thumb, instead of worrying about his own. 

“I’m not saying we should promise each other anything. We’re  _ not  _ doing this for the sake of getting back together. We’re doing this for  _ ourselves,  _ okay? And no one else. And if after all that, a year later, two years later, three years later,  _ ten _ years later, you find yourself still wanting me? Just like the way I always came home to you, every goddamn time, even when I  _ knew  _ you were gonna tear me a new one… I’m pretty sure I’ll be right there, as always.”

For a long time, the two of them sit there and cry, hands intertwined, foreheads pressed together, sitting in comforting silence. 

After giving themselves a moment, Osamu starts laughing.

“I guess I was right.”

Suna furrows his eyebrows. “Hm?”

“They loved each other to know not to let go,” He sniffs, repeating the words he’d said to him before the wedding, “— and we love each other enough to know that we have to.”

Suna smiles, closing his eyes. “Damn poet.”

“Sunarin,” Osamu whispers, just like he did all those fucking years ago, “I’m gonna kiss ya now, ‘kay? For the road?”

Suna muffles a sob, as he nods rapidly. “‘Kay. For the road.”

When they kiss for the first time in over a year, Suna’s reminded of something he’d known from the very beginning, but had slowly forgotten over the years. 

The fact that love was hard, relationships were complicated, and breakups were messy...

But as he kisses Osamu, running one hand through his hair and feeling his calloused palm with the other, he remembers that kissing him felt like  _ breathing. _

Because for Suna Rintarou, loving Miya Osamu, despite everything, was as certain, as plain and simple, as being alive.

“I’ll let ya go for now, Rin.” Osamu says against his lips, “I’ll let ya go for now if that means that one day, I won’t ever have to again.”

Before Suna can think of a reply to that, they feel something soft land on top of their joint hands. They look down to see Flame’s little paw resting on top of theirs.

And despite everything that’d just happened, they burst into hysterical laughter in complete sync.

“Ya poor fuckin’ thing,” Osamu says, patting the cat’s head, “Caught in the middle o’ this mess.”

“You’re so fucking weird, know that?” Suna laughs, “You didn’t even  _ want  _ a cat at first, remember? I had to convince you. You lived with her more, but she was still closer to me. And suddenly we broke up and you were going to a fucking  _ police station  _ to get her back.”

Osamu groans. “Fuck, I’m never livin’ that down, am I?” He shakes his head and says, “Don’t ya remember why I agreed to gettin’ her? Of course, I’d fuckin’ want her to live with me.”

Suna tilts his head. “What? What do you mean?”

Osamu smirks slightly, shaking his head. “Nothin’. Whatever. Can I get another kiss for the road? A longer one, this time?”

“Ugh,” Suna rolls his eyes and sighing like it’s a chore, but already leaning forward all the while, “The things I do for you.”

“Sure,” Osamu amusedly grins as he leans in, “— for  _ me.” _

  
  


**_Then_ **

Osamu pants, feeling like he’d just run an entire marathon when really all that happened was that he just got his soul sucked out of his dick. “Holy _fuck.”_

Suna makes his way back up his body, playfully getting inside Osamu’s oversized shirt, scooting up until his head pops out, and he’s face to face with his boyfriend. “Hello.”

Osamu chuckles tiredly. “You’re cute but fuck  _ off,  _ Rin, this is why all my shirts are stretched out.”

“But you’re so  _ waaaaarm,”  _ Suna whines, resting his cheek on Osamu’s sweaty chest, “— and so hot.” He winks.

“That’s my line.” Osamu retorts, “Christ. I feel like I closed my eyes, saw Jesus for ten seconds, opened my eyes ‘n suddenly I was back here.”

Suna hums happily. “Then… you up for Round 3?”

Osamu makes a face. “Yer sex drive has been outta control lately, know that? I’m not gonna lie to ya, I’m a little terrified.”

Suna pouts. “Hey, I’m just trying to make the most of our time together, alright? You  _ know  _ we’re gonna get busy soon and I won’t get to see you and Samu Junior as much as I want.”

Osamu sighs, reaching up to cup Suna’s cheek. The man closes his eyes at the feeling, humming, and pressing against the touch. “Yer like a damn cat.”

Suna doesn’t say anything to that until an entire minute later, eyes lighting up with some dumb idea that Osamu already  _ knew  _ he was gonna say no to.

“Samu, let’s get a cat.”

He called it.

“No.”

“Why  _ not?”  _ Suna complains, “Cold hearted bastard.”

“Look, I like cats, they’re cute as shit. But it’s too much work takin’ care of a pet. And you just said we’re gonna be busy soon! No fuckin’ way.”

“We can always ask friends to take care of it when we’re too busy,” Suna reasons, “— your parents love animals!”

“Rin.” Osamu says pointedly, “No.”

The next day finds them sitting on the floor of the apartment, cat toys all over the floor, a litter box, cat bed and cat tower set up, and a kitten with orange fur chasing after a tiny toy volleyball on a string that Suna had chosen.

The kitten  _ reows  _ in annoyance when she can’t catch it and Osamu genuinely has to clutch his chest.

Suna smirks in amusement. “And you said you didn’t want a cat.”

“Well, when ya bring home one that looks like her, that’s just cheatin’.” Osamu complains hopelessly, lying on his stomach on the floor, following the kitten with his eyes. “Look at her. She’s so  _ small.” _

“Then pet her.”

“I can’t touch her! What if I break her?” Osamu exclaims, seriously.

“You’re so damn stupid. She’s not even that small, she’s like, three months old. The cat’s not gonna break. Look,” Suna says, petting the orange kitty’s head to prove a point. “See? She’s fine. She likes it!”

Osamu stares at her for a long while before standing up decidedly. “I… am going to make her some sushi.”

“You are going to  _ what?” _

Moments later, as the cat happily devours sushi from its food container, Suna takes videos of her and Osamu nods in acknowledgement.

“Y’know what?” He says, smiling fondly as Suna scratches the back of her little orange head, “This might be useful. Since we’re gonna be busy ‘n shit, we’re probably gonna be at each other’s throats more. So, whenever I’m bein’ annoying enough for you to not wanna come home, well, she’ll give ya a reason to.”

Suna properly laughs at that. “The fuck? Is she supposed to keep our flame alive or something?”

“Yup.” Osamu confirms. “Flame. We’ll name her Flame.”

Suna smiles softly. 

“Flame…” He repeats, staring fondly at the orange fluffball, “I like that. But—“

Suna pulls Osamu towards him, wrapping his arms around his neck as the man reflexively slithers his own around Suna’s waist. “— you don’t need to have a cute cat with you for me to come home to you. I always will. Even when you’re being annoying.”

Osamu snorts. “Ya better keep yer word.”

Suna leans in to kiss him. “You damn well know I always do.”

_ “Reooooooooooow.” _

“Alright, ya little cockblock, that’s enough sushi for you!”

  
  


**_Now_ **

Osamu forgets just how much time has passed, sometimes. It’s been six years since they broke up. Five years since they decided they’d stay that way for an indefinite amount of time, maybe for good or maybe just until they got their shit together. But in Osamu’s head, him being with Suna Rintarou was never a  _ maybe,  _ it was always an  _ of fucking course, who else?  _ But as months and years passed, they’d both realized that their time apart had been needed. After it stopped being miserable, it started being valuable. It’s really fucking cliche and he’s pretty sure he’d first read the quote on Tumblr or something back in middle school, but it said something like:  _ Sometimes, you have to be apart from people you love, but that doesn’t mean you love them any less. Sometimes, you love them more. _

Christ. That’s dramatic. But admittedly, there’s a truth to it. Because Osamu’s realized now that he doesn’t need Suna to survive and get through life, but having him around sure made it a lot better. 

In the past five years, they’ve kept in touch mostly through video calls, but once in a while, whenever they could, they’d meet up. As friends, the way they used to when they were teenagers. They’d have a drink, they’d get some coffee, Suna would come over and eat at Osamu’s restaurant as a customer, and Osamu would sometimes come and watch his games. Especially the ones that were against the Jackals. And he’s reminded of another Tumblr quote:  _ Sometimes, you have to grow apart before you can grow together. _

Damn, he needed to get off Pinterest. But some of those quotes really do be spitting some facts.

Since the last time they’d seen each other in person, a lot of things had happened. 

Suna was officially part of the National Team. Osamu had officially opened more branches in different parts of the country. In their own ways, somehow, they’d managed to conquer Japan.

And in a lot of ways, _ finally,  _ Osamu feels like they’re ready. 

And plus, when it came to making big steps forward, it wasn't just them. Akaashi and Bokuto were married, Kageyama and Hinata were engaged, and also—

“Hey, Samu!” Atsumu yells, “Don’t ya fuckin’ dare steal any of my clothes, ya hear me? Most of ‘em are new!” 

Osamu groans as he sets down the last of the moving boxes. He stretches and wipes the sweat off his brow. “What’re ya payin’ me with for helpin’ you guys move, huh? Am I at least gettin’ some free drinks outta this?”

“Yer gettin’ the honor of bein’ in the company of the most attractive couple in the world of sports—“

“What fuckin’ honor, I’m  _ stuck for life  _ with the most sickening couple in the world of sports.”

“I’ll buy you a drink soon, Osamu.” Sakusa says, slapping him on the shoulder. “Without this guy.”

“What do you  _ mean  _ without me?” Atsumu sputters.

“I’ve always liked ya better, Omi-kun.” Osamu says.

In the middle of Atsumu’s rampage, his phone vibrates in his pocket and he takes it out, only to fight back a smile the second he sees the name. 

“Sickening.” Atsumu deadpans. “Absolutely sickening. How can you two be this disgustin’ without even bein’ together yet? You’ve helped enough. Leave.”

Osamu isn’t even listening to him as he walks out the door, pressing the  _ Answer  _ button. The screen is black for a few seconds until it fills up with Suna’s pixelated face.

He bursts out in laughter. “What the hell is yer face so close to the camera for?”

Suna laughs in response, “Hey! I’m just trying to show off the results of my new skincare routine. Look at this shit, the face masks Omi-kun’s been sending have been fucking  _ majestic.  _ Have you tried it?”

“Tsumu’s been tellin’ me to, but I don’t trust him with skincare for the life of me. But I’ll take yer word for it.” Osamu says, “Why’re ya callin’ me so early? Ya usually don’t call until the sun’s down.”

“Oh. Right!” Suna smiles and it’s sinister almost, like he’s plotting something, and Osamu doesn’t like that. “I have something to tell you.”

Osamu doesn’t like  _ that.  _ Most of the time, when someone says  _ ‘I have something to tell you’,  _ it’s something bad. The last time Atsumu had said he had something to tell him in that exact tone of voice, he talked about Bokuto and Hinata catching him getting his ass eaten. 

Sometimes, he can still feel his fist colliding against his brother’s jaw.

Suddenly, interrupting his train of thought, there’s a soft but unmistakable,  _ ‘Reoooow!’. _

It registers, Osamu’s eyes widening instantly, blinking at Suna’s cheeky grin. “Rin? Where the fuck are ya right now?”

At those words, Suna chuckles and sits up from his lying position, adjusting his phone so Osamu could see where he was. In the background, he catches sight of his own living room, revealing the fact that Suna was home for the first time in almost an entire  _ year.  _

He also catches Flame pacing around the floor, seemingly trying to get Suna to play with her. Osamu nearly drops his goddamn phone.

“So what?” Suna teases, “Are you just gonna stare at me like that or are you gonna come over here and welcome me back properly?”

“Fuck.” is all Osamu can respond with, before pressing the  _ End Call  _ button and bursting into a full on sprint all the way to his car. 

All the goodbye his brother and brother-in-law gets is  _ ‘Gotta go! Suna!’  _ before jumping into his car and slamming the door. 

“Suna’s home?” Sakusa raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t know that was today.”

“Are ya kiddin’? Why the hell do ya think I  _ forced _ Samu to help us move instead of just askin’ Bokuto who would’ve said yes at the mere prospect of showin’ off his muscle strength and speed?” 

“Right.” Sakusa nods understandingly, “... They’re gonna work out now, right?”

“They fuckin’ better.” Atsumu grouses, “‘Cause I’m tired of feelin’ single when I’m supposed to be married.”

Sakusa wrinkles his nose. “Why the hell d’ya feel single when yer married?”

Atsumu waves his hand. “Twin thing. Ya wouldn’t understand.”

  
  


When Osamu gets to his front door, he’s panting like a dog. He fumbles with his keys because of how badly he’s shaking (nerves or excitement, he isn’t sure) and it feels like two lifetimes, before he manages to get his shit together and insert it into the keyhole. When he swings the door open, he’s met with the view of Suna Rintarou grinning from ear to ear as he pulls around a string with a tiny volleyball attached to it, the only old toy that Flame still loved, and their cat sprinting across the living room chasing after it. 

Suna turns to him and they lock eyes. It feels like the first time. 

He feels the toy volleyball hit his thigh so he swats it away with his hand, accidentally giving it directly to Flame, who starts biting excitedly.

Suna looks down and smiles gently. “Huh. Nice receive.”

And Osamu should probably feel more emotional, he should probably be fucking crying right now, because this is all he’s wanted, all he’s been waiting for, for so goddamn long. But for some reason, it doesn’t feel like some grand reunion at all. 

They look at each other and know that they’d always known that this was where they were going to end up, inevitably. 

_ Here, together, eyes locked, _ Osamu thinks as he rushes forward and takes Suna in his arms,  _ this was where they were going to end up, inevitably. _

“That seemed like a sign, didn’t it, Samu?” Suna says shakily against his shoulder, “We may not have been the ones to get married next, but… what do you say about rekindling the flame?”

“I think…” Osamu leans back slightly to look him in the eye, pressing their foreheads together, “— we have the rest of our goddamn lives to work on that.”

And when they kiss, Osamu realizes that love is hard, relationships take a lot of work, and breakups are  _ painful.  _ But he’s reminded of something he’s already known long ago, but started forgetting over the years.

Kissing Suna felt like breathing. It was as easy as  _ breathing. _

And he realizes that while learning how to love himself was probably the hardest fucking thing that he ever had to do, loving Suna Rintarou, to him, was as certain, as plain and simple, as being alive. 

“I’m home, Samu.” Suna whispers against his lips.

He lets out a breathless chuckle. “Welcome home, Rin.”

_ “Reoooooooooow!” _

They both gaze at the fluffball hopelessly, Suna bending down to pick her up and cuddle her in between their chests. “And I guess welcome home to you too, now that I’m back.”

Osamu smiles because this time he knows, no matter where they go, no matter how far or how long, they will  _ always _ come back to this. 

Here, together, eyes locked, in each other’s arms, and a stubborn Flame between them, always prepared to keep them warm. 

  
  


**_Then_ **

They’re not sure why they’d decided to climb a mountain just to scream. I mean, they could’ve done that in the car. Instead, they’d woken up at ass o’clock just so they could go through the physical torture of hiking a damn mountain for the sake of Twin Time? Heartbreak therapy? Whatever bullshit it was that Atsumu had said that somehow convinced him to do this. They never even  _ liked  _ hiking. 

But he does have to admit, once they get there, once they’re standing on top of a rock and screaming the worst curse words they could think of, some of them Osamu didn't even know existed, he feels better.

He’s not sure how long they scream for, he’s not sure  _ what  _ they’re screaming, but once they’re done, they’re properly  _ beat.  _

“Shit,” Atsumu sighs, collapsing against the rock, resting his head against it tiredly,  _ “Christ,  _ I needed that.”

Osamu did too, but he doesn’t admit that.

Instead, he scoffs. “It’s almost ridiculous, Tsumu. How’re ya still alive? Aren’t ya tired of holdin’ on to someone who’s not even sure if he wants to be held onto?”

Atsumu flashes him a dirty look. “Shut the fuck up, Samu. Ya don’t get it.”

“Yer right, I don’t.” Osamu says easily, “Are ya sure yer willing to do this? I mean… it’s not that I don’t like him, I do. But yer cryin’  _ all  _ the time. Tsumu, I’m not even the one who’s cryin’ and  _ my  _ eyes are tired for you. I like him but I also kinda want ya to fuckin’ date someone who hasn’t stayed in the closet for this long so you can stop bein’ so damn sad.” 

Atsumu looks at him like he’s insane. “Are ya fuckin’ crazy? Hell no. If I could even  _ slightly  _ imagine myself with anyone else but Omi, I wouldn’t be doin’ this shit at all. You know me. But I  _ can’t.  _ It’s him or no one. And as fuckin’ miserable as it is right now, I love him and I know he loves me more than anythin’, so I know we’d be more miserable apart.”

Atsumu huffs out a breath, pulling his knees to his chest. “I  _ won’t _ let him let go because I  _ know _ he doesn’t want to. I love him too much to let him do that to us.”

Osamu still thinks he’s crazy. Fucking insane. But more than anything else, he’s jealous. He’s jealous of the courage Atsumu had to fight for a love that he seemed to know in his heart, he deserved. 

“What ‘bout you, huh?” Atsumu asks, jostling Osamu slightly. “That was ten fuckin’ years, Samu. I know how much ya love him. Why’d ya let go?”

Osamu finds he doesn’t have his own answer to that. So instead, he repeats Suna’s words from that night. “It’s better this way.”

Funnily enough, Atsumu repeats  _ his  _ words. “Better for who? ‘Cause this sure as  _ hell  _ doesn’t seem better for you.”

Osamu nearly laughs out loud at that but he holds himself back, because he feels like if he starts laughing, he’ll start crying at the same time. “Well, fuckin’ better for him, obviously, now that he’s rid of me.”

_ “Samu.”  _ Atsumu says, voice turning hard in an instant. “Don’t be talkin’ that kinda shit.”

“It’s true, isn’t it?” Osamu continues anyway, “By the end of it, it was like I was just extra weight to him ‘n I get it. Hell, I get it more than anyone. ‘Cause he’s this big-shot volleyball player ‘n I’m just… what? Who was I outside bein’ Suna Rintarou’s other half? Who am I besides bein’  _ Miya Atsumu’s  _ other half who quit volleyball? No one knows ‘cause even  _ I _ don’t. Maybe it  _ is _ better this way. Maybe it’ll do him some damn good bein’ away from me for a while. I know I was suffocatin’ him.”

For a long while, Atsumu doesn’t say anything to that, like he’s not sure what there is to say. And Osamu’s quiet but doesn’t wait, because he doesn’t think there  _ is  _ anything to say at all. 

But Atsumu does say something. 

“Yer not a fuckin’ half of  _ anything,  _ Samu.” He says, voice low enough to be a whisper, the way it only ever gets when he’s saying something he means too much to say out loud, “Yer not Sunarin’s half, you’ve been the love of his goddamn life for ten whole years. And yer not my half either, yer my  _ whole.” _

Osamu’s throat closes up and he bites his tongue until he tastes metal because it’s all he can do not to start crying like an idiot again.

“Yer a whole fuckin’ being, ya understand me? And the sooner ya realize that, the sooner you’ll realize everythin’ else.”

Osamu sniffs and forces out a laugh, “Is this gonna be yer I should love myself the way Sunarin loved me speech?”

“Hell no,” Atsumu says instantly, “Love yerself the way  _ I  _ love you. ‘Cause with that, you’ll easily fuckin’ understand why everyone else does too.”

Osamu quickly swipes at his eyes. “Damn sap.”

Atsumu sighs, tilting his head up to face the sun. “If there’s anythin’ I learned from bein’ with Omi..."

Osamu turns his head, curiously. "What?"

"It’s to love yerself the way ya wanna be loved, Samu." He smiles gently, "I think once ya do that, it’ll be a little easier to let everyone love ya too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a long outro to this. I just think we all need to like ourselves more. I was inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/sakuatsimp/status/1356493101615915008) tweet and decided to give the people what they wanted. PSA that while we're all glad OsaSuna decided to start again, getting back together with your ex is not always a good idea. So to any of you out there wondering if you should do it, I dunno about that, guys. That's it and thank you for reading!
> 
> A dying candle, more than an end, is an opportunity to spark another light and start again.


End file.
